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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25738603">Fly</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironxprince/pseuds/ironxprince'>ironxprince</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Female Peter Parker, Gen, Hydra (Marvel), M/M, Manipulative Nick Fury, Platonic Soulmates, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmates, Wingfic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 02:15:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>24,446</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25738603</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironxprince/pseuds/ironxprince</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where humans have wings, where the colour of one's wings match that of their soulmate's, Tony Stark and Steve Rogers live the happy married life with identical sets of blue feathers. They work for the underground agency SHIELD as covert agents that prosecute hidden evils before harm can be done. They're relaxed, happy, and in love, until one day, everything changes.</p><p>Tony wakes up with a new wing colour.</p><p>On his left, blue. On his right, yellow. Tony has two soulmates; Steve just has the one.</p><p>Their world spirals into one of secrets and lies, of sorrows and truths, of longing and desperation and love and admiration as Tony searches for his lost soulmate - but love is found in unconventional places, and soulmates aren't born.</p><p>They're made.</p><p>//</p><p>This work is unfinished. I've reached a block; I'll be updating slowly in order to gain motivation to continue. Tags will be updated as the story progresses in order to maintain the element of surprise.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson, Peter Parker &amp; Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>76</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi guys! I originally wanted to wait until this story was completed to post it; unfortunately, I've reached a block and need some inspiration to get it done. I'm currently 17 chapters in, aiming for somewhere around 40 total. Comments are appreciated; it will help motivate me to complete this story, in which case updates will arrive faster. Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>2001</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve is slowly brought to consciousness, the feeling of a soft pillow under his cheek and a fleece blanket tangled around his legs welcoming him back to the land of the living. Golden rays of sunlight flit over his eyelids, and he relishes in the impression of warmth they carry with them, counteracting the chill of the fan blowing on his back that he had turned on high the night before in order to compensate for the summer heat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a body curled against his, lying on their side whereas Steve is on his back, and a small smile graces Steve’s lips at the feeling of Tony’s body pressed tight against his. Steve glides his hand across the pillow until his fingers brush against Tony’s curls and he begins to scratch them back and forth. Steve loves Tony’s curls; unfortunately he’s always gelling them down, keeping himself looking prim and proper in the eyes of the general population. Steve takes the time to admire them now, eyes closed as he gently massages out a couple of knots.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony sighs in pleasure and shifts himself so he’s closer to Steve, bodies pressing together and legs intertwined. Steve drapes an arm over Tony’s body to wrap around his back and moves the other down Tony’s neck and shoulder, fingers lightly brushing over the skin. Tony shivers as Steve reaches his upper back, just between his shoulder blades, and presses his palm to the skin there, just for a moment. He gently rubs circles across the skin with his third finger before sliding it down to the left, to Tony’s shoulder and the base of one of his wings that lays flat against the pillow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve begins to glide his fingers along the blue feathers there, starting with a navy blue at their base and fading to an iceberg near the tips. With his eyes closed Steve feels along every individual feather, knowing each one like they’re his own, because they </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span>. As soulmates Tony’s feathers are identical to Steve’s, and they had been since Steve was born.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They met at a science convention, Tony being one of the judges, and Steve there to help a friend who, with his own soulmate, had created a line of bionic products, the keynote being a new line of bionic wings. Steve had offered to help design them, from the shape to their colour, and, having decided to hide his wings until he found his soulmate (as people often did), he painted the wings the colour of his own, and his friends were none the wiser.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With his wings tucked securely against his back, hidden beneath a tan bomber jacket, Steve joined them at the convention. They attracted guests of all kinds, most intrigued by the blue wings Steve had fixed to the roof of their tent. Steve spent the entirety of the convention leaning against the wall their tent backed on, watching people come and go - and then, he spotted something in the crowd.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blue wings, extended wide and proud as the owner unseen to Steve, pushed through the crowd.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Most people, in a crowd such as that, tucked their wings away, burying them under clothes and giving others space to move around them, but this man didn’t seem bothered, sidling through the crowd to reach their booth - and Steve got to see him in all his glory.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wearing a suit with a simple red tie and large, rose-tinted glasses, hair swept back and facial hair trimmed to a tee, he towered over the other guests, simply by the way he held himself - but slowly, one by one, they realized. They looked to the wings this man sported, sprouting from perfectly-tailored cuts made in the back of his jacket to allow them to move, then shifted their gaze to the devices hanging proudly from the top of the tent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were identical.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve’s heart stuttered in his chest and he remained frozen against the back wall, hands clenching into fists within the pockets of his jacket and eyes wide as the man examined the bionic wings, then looked down to Sam and James and offered them a small smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You two created these wings?” Sam launched into his sales pitch as James began to offer brochures, but the man held up a hand, interrupting them. “How did you come up with the colour?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam and James shared a look before turning to stare behind them concurrently. The man followed their gaze to where Steve was cowering at the back of the tent. He raised a single, barely trembling finger and beckoned Steve toward him, and as if he were being attracted by a magnet Steve followed as the man turned and led him out into a quiet hallway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the door to the auditorium closed behind Steve he found the man leaning against the far wall, arms crossed. His wings spread magnificently against the bricks behind him and Steve’s heart skipped a beat in his chest. Those were </span>
  <em>
    <span>his </span>
  </em>
  <span>wings, being sported by this exemplary man. Was it possible? Could this man really be his soulmate, the one he had waited to meet since he had just learned to speak?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where did you get that design?” the man asked, his voice sounding strained despite his composed appearance. Steve said nothing, his throat feeling like it was closing up. Instead, he reached a trembling hand up to unzip his jacket, and tossed it aside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The look on the man’s face when he saw the pair of wings identical to his own was something Steve would never forget.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve smiles at the memory as he continues to trail his fingers along Tony’s left wing, brushing as far as his arm can reach before gliding back down and inching his way to the other side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He feels for the large base feather, sprouting directly from both of their scapulas underneath the wing. Steve frowns when he doesn’t find it; he had felt it on Tony’s other wing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve continues to brush his fingers along the wing, confusion only growing at the foreign feeling. Tony’s right wing is softer, feathers in all the wrong spots. </span>
  <em>
    <span>None </span>
  </em>
  <span>of this is familiar. This is not Steve’s wing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve opens his eyes to investigate, and his blood runs cold.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tony,” he whispers. “Your wing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony groans against Steve’s chest. “What, are the feathers turning gray? Wait, do wings turn gray? Because I noticed a gray hair the other day and-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s yellow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony stops and peels one eye open, frowning up at Steve. “Are you getting back at me for throwing that pie in your face?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve can’t take his eyes from the light yellow that fades into a pure white that hadn’t been there the night before. His mouth slowly falls open in horror as he shakes his head. “This isn’t a joke,” he says quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony’s brow furrows and he takes Steve’s hand, squeezing in comfort for one quick moment before easing from the bed to stand in front of the floor-length mirror hanging on the back of his closet door. Steve creeps up behind him, movements slow and sluggish, a haze settling over his mind. This must be a dream, right? Wing colours don’t change. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Soulmates </span>
  </em>
  <span>don’t change.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve stands behind Tony as they stare at themselves in the mirror, Steve almost a head taller than him despite Tony’s three years of advanced age. Tony inspects himself in the mirror, eyes glued to his right wing in a colour so unnaturally bright and, therefore, inherently good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It makes the deep blue opposite look evil in comparison.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony’s eyes flick to his left wing, as if checking that the colour is still consistent with Steve’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wings had never been wrong before. Sure, some people dated those with a wing colour different to theirs, maybe even settled down with them. They didn’t believe in soulmates, or didn’t want to waste their life waiting around to find the perfect person; a nice one was good enough. Steve and Tony had been lucky enough to find each other when they were both younger than thirty, but now that’s all about to change.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony has two soulmates.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve just has the one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony takes a shuddering breath, finding his own eyes in the mirror. “Well, that’s new.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Assignment</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Part One: <em>Birds Fly in Different Directions</em></p><p>Steve's POV</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi guys, welcome to my newest work! It's still in progress, and I'm currently about half way through. I expect to have around 40 chapters in total; we'll see. Comments are very much appreciated to motivate me to continue!</p><p>New chapters posted every Sunday.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Nineteen years later</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve swallows the last bite of his jam and toast, depositing the plate in the sink and beginning to wash it. He hears Tony groan from his place at the kitchen island, forehead resting on the marble countertop, and sighs, setting down his plate. He rounds the island to stand behind Tony, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to wake up with me, you know. I’m a big boy, I can take care of myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony lifts his head just enough to blink up at Steve. “I’m your s-” He’s interrupted by a yawn. “Soulmate. I like waking up with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve gently strokes Tony’s wings where they droop depressingly against his back. “You also like sleeping in. You’d sleep until two, if I wasn’t here. I could go for my run, come back home, shower, </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>prepare you breakfast before you’re out of bed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony’s eyes flutter closed as Steve brushes his feathers with the back of his hand, some blue, some yellow. Steve tries not to avoid the yellow, as uncomfortable as it makes him feel to face it. He doesn’t want Tony thinking there’s anything between them, anything Steve doesn’t like about him, because really, there </span>
  <em>
    <span>isn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Tony is Steve’s soulmate. It’s impossible for there to be any aspect of him that Steve doesn’t like.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, the yellow feathers make him uncomfortable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wanna see you in the morning,” Tony grumbles, eyes half-closed. Steve chuckles, supporting Tony as he inches back off the stool.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>will</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Steve assures him, “once I get home, and once you’re not a zombie.” He guides Tony to the stairs, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before guiding him onto the first step. “Now, go back to sleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony doesn’t even turn back. “Love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve smiles. “I know.” He watches as Tony disappears up the stairs before turning and stepping out of their house, checking the time on his watch. </span>
  <em>
    <span>5:06</span>
  </em>
  <span>. More than enough time for a three mile jog to a nearby park, 45 minutes of stretching, and three miles back, with enough time to be back to receive Tony’s less-grouchy self.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve sets off, the sun not yet risen, and he doesn’t expect it to be before he gets back, this late into October.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s no one to greet him out on the roads, very few bird songs his only company as he jogs beneath trees and past rows of houses, but that’s better than the alternative - preferred, actually.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony and Steve, along with Sam and their neighbours, Sharon and Maria, are all covert agents for SHIELD, an agency to defend the planet from threats to human civilization and the planet as a whole. It’s a large job, but an important one, and they take it seriously - at least, Steve does.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve’s preferred fighting style is grounded, hand-to-hand combat. Flying makes him too big of a target, makes it too easy for the enemy to shoot him out of the sky. He fights with a simple shield and cotton hand wraps. Tony, on the other hand, </span>
  <em>
    <span>loves</span>
  </em>
  <span> flying. He doesn’t hide his wings, and he loves to put them to use. Recruited to SHIELD for his intelligence, he had created a condensed muon beam, fired using a metal gauntlet he had created for both hands. He doesn’t have to do as much physical work as Steve does, choosing instead to be air support, but he </span>
  <em>
    <span>should </span>
  </em>
  <span>be working on his endurance training, having to stay up in the air for so long. Flying exerts the same amount of strength as running does; it’s why most people still choose to use vehicles as opposed to flying everywhere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve tries to convince Tony to run with him, on </span>
  <em>
    <span>multiple </span>
  </em>
  <span>occasions, but all attempts prove fruitless. If the man can barely get out of bed in the morning, how’s he supposed to run a mini marathon?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So Steve runs alone, the journey getting easier every day on the same monotonous path with the same lack of people-</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve comes to a stop, noticing Sam standing out on his front porch. He offers Steve a wave, and Steve nods in response as Sam heads down the driveway to greet him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Man, get a treadmill,” are Sam’s greeting words, still in his pajamas - flannel bottoms and a white tank.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve chuckles in response. “I like the fresh air.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And how come I never see Tony out with you? He should be training, too, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah? And where’s Barnes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As if on cue, a voice shouts from the screen door, “Why am I waking up in a cold bed, Wilson?” Sam and Steve turn to face him in amusement. James’ eyebrows raise when he sees Steve, but only for a moment, before he cracks the door open just enough to stick his hand out and offer Steve the middle finger. Steve sighs good-heartedly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Love you too, James,” Steve calls</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah,” James grumbles as he steps back inside the house. “I don’t want to be awake before the sun, Sam. Get your ass back inside.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam shakes his head fondly before turning back to Steve. “What was that all about?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I convinced him to train with me a couple of weeks ago, told him I had gotten myself involved with a gang and needed practise-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dude, seriously?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What else was I supposed to say? I needed the combat practise after being away from a mission for so long. I panicked, and I wasn’t going to be the one to tell him about… our </span>
  <em>
    <span>jobs</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And… I may have knocked him out cold. Gave him a minor concussion.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam’s eyes widen. “You </span>
  <em>
    <span>what?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, I said </span>
  <em>
    <span>minor</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I was training, all right? Plus, I fixed him up after. Gave him lots of pain meds. He’s fine.” Steve shrugs. “Steve Rogers goes all out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, so I’ve heard. So </span>
  <em>
    <span>that’s </span>
  </em>
  <span>why he’s been acting so weird lately.” Sam casts a dark glance toward the house. “I’m going to make him ever regret lying to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you lie to him every day about your job?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Man, shut up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve chuckles softly and lifts his hands to rest against his sides, just above his hips, as he pants and catches his breath. He notices Sam had gone quiet, eyes looking, unseeing, down the street. Steve’s brow furrows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s going on with you?” he asks with a slight tip of the chin. Sam looks up guiltily, like he’s been caught.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just a, um….” He reaches a hand up to stroke along his chin. “Mission assignment. Got me thinking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve quiets his voice, though there’s no one around to hear him. “Yeah? What’s Fury got you going out on?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Assigned Maria and I to this HYDRA case. You ever heard of it?” Steve wordlessly shakes his head. “Yeah, I guess you wouldn’t have. They work secretly. I bet you half of the terrorist attacks, or even threats, you’ve ever heard about were their doing.” Steve’s brow furrows and he nervously shifts his weight between feet. “They have bases all over the country - all over the world, we assume, but we don’t have that jurisdiction just yet. Fury’s been sending teams out to raid each individual base. Maria and I just got assigned the newest one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam licks his lips nervously and his eyes shift down the street, as if checking that they’re still alone. Steve subconsciously leans in closer. “We did our research. Been going at it for a couple of months, doing recon. We’ve only been seeing soldiers, illegal doings but nothing unusual for the group, until two days ago.” Sam quiets his voice. “They’re training… </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>. This creature, dressed in all black. We’ve been watching it, but we can’t figure out what it is, or what they’re trying to get it to do. It can climb walls. They’ve been teaching it, I-I don’t even know. Some kind of gymnastics, deadly aerial tricks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam pauses, averting his gaze once more. Steve nods toward the house. “Does James know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam’s eyes practically bulge out of his head. “Are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>insane? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Aside from the fact that Fury would straight-up murder me if I shared SHIELD’s secrets… honestly, I’m more afraid of what James would do if he knew that I’m not really some lowly product designer, how serious my job is.” Sam’s brown feathers ruffle behind him uncertainly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve huffs out a chuckle, but only because he feels the situation calls for it. Uncharted territory in their jobs is </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>good. Things are usually the same - enhanced weaponry, guns, bombs. An enhanced </span>
  <em>
    <span>person? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Steve doesn’t know what that means for SHIELD, or the world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve crosses his arms over his chest. “So what do you know about this creature?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What I just told you. Covered in black, from head to toe. It’s incredibly strong and fast. I saw it fight….” Sam trails off and shakes his head. “I don’t know what we’re gonna do, man. Fury wants to send us out again this Thursday, but we can’t handle this shit. This is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>what we signed up for. I’m… I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>scared</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And don’t- don’t tease me for that. A wise man knows when he’s beaten.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve raises his arms. “Wasn’t going to.” They’re silent for a beat. “Hey, why don’t we come with you? Tony and I.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam tenses. “What? You weren’t assigned this mission. It was me, and Maria. Plus, soulmates don’t go out together, Fury’s rule. They’re a liability-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t care what Fury thinks. You need help here. This seems dangerous, Wilson. I’m not letting you go at it alone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam watches his face for a moment, taking in Steve’s crossed arms, his clenched jaw. He turns to look behind him at his house, where James is lying, probably back asleep by now. Finally he sighs, turning back to Steve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine. But you’ve gotta be the one to call Fury.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Deal.”</span>
</p><p><span>∞</span> <span>◑</span> <span>∞</span></p><p>
  <span>Steve sits at Sam’s dining room table, fingers nervously tapping against the tabletop as Sam sits opposite him, hands steepled beneath his chin. His wings, spread out behind him, brown and speckled with white, quiver with every bated breath, each feather shaking and moving in a different direction as if every individual one is caught within its own breeze. He watches the phone placed face-up on the table between them, waiting in silence for it to be answered, each ring setting a new wave of shivers over Sam’s feathers, a new tune tapped out by Steve’s fingers on the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ringing stops, a voice replacing it. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>This is Fury.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” His voice is low and gruff, but not sounding any different than any other time Steve had heard it. In the back of his mind, Steve wonders if the Director ever sleeps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Sir. This is Steve Rogers. I have Sam Wilson with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Rogers. It’s been a while.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Sir. I’ve been waiting to get back in the field, and I believe I’ve found an opportunity.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, you do, do you? So your honeymoon phase with Stark is over? You’ll no longer botch a stakeout because your precious husband called you home, leaving your partner at risk?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A blush grows up Steve’s cheeks at the memory of leaving Sharon behind after receiving a frantic SOS call over SHIELD’s collective radio channel. Signals were blocked for anyone on a mission, but Seve had asked Sam to help him rewire it in order to receive any messages Tony sent through, no matter what - and he didn’t regret it. He had saved Tony’s life, providing backup against a terrorist threat in Texas, leaving Sharon behind in the process. She had barely gotten out of their own mission alive. Another group had to be dispatched to replace them, and Steve had been suspended for over two years now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Sir. I’m ready for my next mission,” Steve manages to stutter out. Sam raises his eyebrows at the story, watching Steve from across the table. Steve just shakes his head. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t ask</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Uh-huh. And what opportunity do you ‘believe’ you’ve found?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I plan to join Sam’s mission with him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fury is quiet on the other end of the line. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>He already has Hill.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Sir,” Sam steps in, “but there’s been a new development that’s led me to believe this mission is too dangerous to be carried out by two people.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fury takes a deep breath on the other side of the line. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Alright, Wilson, I trust your judgement. Plus, Rogers, this’ll be a good chance for you to get back into the game, this time with two people to leave behind when you get the bat symbol.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam shoots Steve a look that says, </span>
  <em>
    <span>You’d better not</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Sir,” Steve says. “And I was hoping to take Tony with me as my partner.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fury laughs. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>You’re kidding me.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Sir, I’m not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>He distracts you when you’re on opposite sides of the country! There’s no way I’m letting you go out on the same mission. Your partner is Sharon, always has been and always will be. Brief her. Don’t forget, Wilson, you’re raiding the base this Thursday. Make sure you’re all ready.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The line goes dead, and Steve leans back in his chair like his strings had been cut. Sam watches him closely from across the table. “I shouldn’t have fixed that radio for you, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Bad call on your part.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam sighs, running a hand down his face. “Alright, I should probably head up to James, and you have a husband to return to and a partner to brief.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve nods, moving to stand from the table, but not before reaching a hand out for Sam to shake. He doesn’t miss how tight Sam’s grip is, the quivers that run through his fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey.” Steve meets Sam’s eyes, red from sleep deprivation. “We’ll bring this guy in, destroy the base. It’s just another mission.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam scoffs as he retracts his hand. “‘Just another mission’ wouldn’t require four people.” He smiles gratefully anyway, leading Steve out into the hallway. A voice from the top of the stairs makes them both jump.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look at that, he’s inside my house now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam smiles apologetically up at James. “I’ll be there in a moment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>James nods once, but doesn’t make a move to retreat as he glares down at Steve. “Is there anyone else here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, just us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought I heard a third voice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam’s expression doesn’t falter, and Steve fights to ensure he’s doing the same. “I think hearing voices is a good sign you need some more sleep,” Sam teases, stepping up the stairs. He turns back to Steve with a controlled expression. “I’ll see you later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve nods once and sees himself out, stopping on Sam’s porch to take a breath of fresh air. He allows himself a minute just to breathe as he looks at the sky. The sun isn’t up yet, but the sky is already beginning to change colour, meaning it’s almost time for him to be home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve sets off back in the direction of his house. Getting there earlier, maybe he’ll actually follow through and make Tony breakfast, before he shares the news about his new mission.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Neither of them know it yet, but it’s going to change their lives.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next Sunday: The Debrief</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Debrief</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Steve locks the door behind him after stepping into his house, leaning against it, enjoying the feeling of the cool material against his forehead. It helps to stave off the heat he’d gathered from running, as well as the cold sweat that had formed on the back of his neck when he heard Sam’s words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Honey?” Steve looks up and finds Tony standing behind him at the base of the staircase, wings drooping low. “You’re home early.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve forces a smile. “And you’re awake early, again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t fall back asleep. I dunno.” Tony shrugs. “Something was keeping me up, I guess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony reaches Steve, running his hands up and down Steve’s arms. “Everything okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve encompasses Tony’s hands in his own and begins to lead him back toward the kitchen. “How about I fix you some breakfast?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t answer my question.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pancakes first.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With blueberries?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course. What else would I use?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony settles at the table and Steve presses a kiss to the top of his head before continuing to the stove. He plans their conversation 20-something times over, but when he sets the serving plate of pancakes on the table the words evade him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony doesn’t even reach for the plate, despite the fact that Steve had placed a container of whipped cream beside it for the sole purpose of distracting him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony reaches a hand across the table to grasp Steve’s own. “Can you talk to me now?” he asks gently. Steve runs a hand along his chin, nervous. He hadn’t realized how much getting back in the field after being gone for so long was going to affect him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have a mission.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony’s eyes widen, and his hand clenches excitedly. “That’s great! You’re cleared to be back in the field?” Steve nods wordlessly. “How’d you find out? What, Fury called you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, actually, I, uh-” Steve takes a deep breath. “I ran into Sam. He told me what he was going out on, and I figured he might need a little help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony’s brow furrows, sensing the gravity in Steve’s tone. “It’s dangerous.” A statement, not a question. Steve nods wordlessly. “You’ve got Sharon going out with you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Still need to tell her, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Might be a good idea. So what’s, um….” Tony’s voice quiets, like he’s afraid to know the answer. “What’s the mission?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you know about HYDRA?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony nods. “I think I was charged with taking down one of their bases a while back. There’s a bunch of them, sometimes with new weapons, but ultimately, they’re idiots.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Nothing major</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Steve understands from his tone, </span>
  <em>
    <span>so why are you so worried?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’ve got a new weapon, a… new soldier. Sam doesn’t know what they are, or how they’re being trained, but whatever they are… it’s gotten him pretty shaken up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sam’s not scared of anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve grimaces. “Exactly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony exhales deeply, not taking his eyes from Steve’s. “Sounds like you gotta go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This Thursday, actually. We’re making our move.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you nervous?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve offers a smile and hopes Tony can’t see through it. “Of course not.” Tony frowns sympathetically. Steve should’ve known better than to lie to his soulmate - he’s sure his wings are fluttering like crazy behind him. “Are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony strokes his thumb over the back of Steve’s hand. “After waking up at five for the last decade so you can run laps around our neighbourhood, building up muscles that no human being should be capable of having?” Steve scoffs, and a small smile spreads across Tony’s lips. “No. I’m not nervous.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony lifts Steve’s hand to his lips and presses a kiss to the back of it. “It’s been two minutes since these pancakes were set in front of me, and I haven’t eaten any yet. That’s an issue.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve smiles, making a </span>
  <em>
    <span>dig in </span>
  </em>
  <span>motion with his hand, and Tony proceeds to do just that. Steve, however, can’t find it in himself to even take a bite. He’s lost his appetite.</span>
</p><p><span>∞</span> <span>◑</span> <span>∞</span></p><p>
  <span>Steve finds Sharon after breakfast, while Tony heads back upstairs to shower and do his two hour morning routine. With how late he sleeps in and how early he goes to bed, combined with the sheer amount of time he spends upstairs, Steve thinks it’s a wonder he gets anything done in a day at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve knocks on Sharon’s door and is greeted by her current boyfriend, his wings a neon green. Steve almost recoils at the sight of it, but conceals it with a smile. Oh, he’s going to tease Sharon relentlessly about this once they’re out of earshot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi,” Steve greets. “I’m a friend of Sharon’s. Is she home?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man frowns at Steve beneath his ringlets. “Who wants to know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve offers out his hand. “I’m Steve.” The man ignores it, and Steve retracts his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sharon,” he calls into the house. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Steve </span>
  </em>
  <span>is here.” Steve doesn’t miss how his name is said with distaste.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sharon appears a moment later, hurrying down the stairs as she dries her wet hair with a towel. Drops fall on her peachy pink wings, making the white ripples among them look even more like a wave. She presses a kiss to her boyfriend’s cheek before thanking him, stepping out of the house, and closing the door behind her. Her hands fly up to the towel around her hair and Steve has to step back from the drops that go flying at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” she greets. Steve smiles back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi. What’s up with the glowstick?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sharon rolls her eyes, and Steve bites back a smirk, maintaining the pleasant smile on his face. “Shut up. Turns out Nathaniel smokes, so I had to break up with him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Six days in? That must be a new record.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Actually, that was Dimitri. Two days.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve frowns. “I don’t think I remember-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Between Mark and Oliver.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, that explains it. I spent that weekend at home with Tony.” Sharon smacks Steve on the shoulder. He just laughs. “So who’s this one?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sharon sighs, casting a glance back toward the house. “This is Kai.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m guessing you don’t like him, either.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I’ve managed to hook up with all the guys in this city. Can’t find one I like.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you tried dating them for more than a week? The results might shock you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sharon smacks Steve with the towel. “They say if it’s love, you’ll know within 24 hours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hopeless romantic, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Something like that.” She sighs, finally finishing drying her hair and setting the towel across her shoulders. “Anyway, what’s up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ve got a mission.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sharon’s face lights up. “I don’t have to go out with Rhodes anymore? Don’t get me wrong, he’s great, but I think he forgets I’m not Tony. He’s always giving me these weird nicknames and trying to communicate with me through glances. It’s odd.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve laughs. “Yeah, Tony and I are back in the field. You are relieved of your substitute duties.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, thank heavens.” Sharon smiles and sets her hands on her hips. “So, what’s the mission?” Steve hesitates, and her face falls. “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you spoken to Sam or Maria recently?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maria and I grabbed coffee last Saturday, and Sam caught me mowing the lawn the other day. We had a conversation.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So they haven’t told you about what they’ve been going out on?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sharon frowns disapprovingly. “This job already controls so much of our lives. I want to be able to talk with my friends without constantly discussing it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, fair, but that line’s about to get pretty blurry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Has anyone ever told you, you beat around the bush? Like, a lot? Just get to it, Rogers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve sighs, cutting to the chase. “Unless you’ve gone on one of these missions with Rhodes, you don’t know about HYDRA.” Sharon wordlessly shakes her head. “Some kind of terrorist organization. They have bases all over the country that are slowly being raided by SHIELD, one by one - at least, that’s what Sam told me. He and Maria just got assigned one of those missions, but there’s something different.” Steve quiets his voice, although the street is empty. “They have an enhanced individual.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sharon’s brow is furrowed; she’s in her agent mode. “Like a human being?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sam says he can’t be sure, but they’re strong and fast, and he’s worried to take them on alone. Fury allowed me and you to jump on the case with them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sharon nods, taking in the information. Once she’s done musing over it, she frowns. “You’re not going to abandon me again in the middle of the mission, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve laughs uncomfortably, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “Not this time, no.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sharon nods once. “Okay, let’s do it. When are we leaving?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This Thursday. You think you’ll be ready?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sharon lifts her eyes, thinking. “I’ll have to push forward the breakup conversation. I don’t want to die and have that moron giving a speech at my funeral.” Steve gapes at her. They’ve gone on enough missions together for him to know, she’s not joking. Not in the slightest. “So the mission’s just to destroy the base, take in the hostiles?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I expect so, but we’ll get confirmation from Sam before heading out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sharon smiles as she steps back toward the house, reaching a hand for the door handle but not yet twisting it. “I’ll see you then. Glad to have you back, Rogers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve watches her wings flutter excitedly before the door falls closed behind her.</span>
</p><p><span>∞</span> <span>◑</span> <span>∞</span></p><p>
  <span>When Steve arrives back home, he finds Tony just hanging up the phone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who was that?” he greets, finding Tony pacing the bedroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rhodey. Apparently, someone told him I was back in the field.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sharon must have called. He excited to have you back?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony suppressed a grin. “He had some choice words - apparently, I’m a bit of a hothead and a mess to collaborate with, but he’ll be fine. What did Sharon say?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s excited. I’m glad she’s coming with me.” Just saying the words, Steve realizes the truth behind them. He really is glad to have Sharon watching his back. She’s passionate about the job, but not nearly as trigger happy as Tony, and not ruled by emotions as much as Steve is. She’s the perfect partner, and she’s sure to keep Steve grounded and protected, no matter how this mission goes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure you’re ready to be back in the field?” Tony asks, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. Steve remains standing, fearing he’ll explode if he’s forced to sit still.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. I mean, I’ve been training, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I might’ve noticed something,” Tony teases with a small grin, but it slides from his face quickly. “If this is such a dangerous mission, I’m not so sure you should be going.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’ll have three other people with me, one of whom is Sharon, and I trust her whole-heartedly. Plus, I’ve got a couple of days to prepare, so what could go wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony stands from the bed, pressing a gentle hand to Steve’s cheek. Steve encompasses Tony’s hand with his own and holds it there, leaning into it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know whenever they say that in the movies, something always goes wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, well, this isn’t a movie. Everything’s going to be fine,” Steve reassures, lying through his teeth. Truth is, he’s worried about this mission. He’s always felt out of his depth in this job. Maybe he’s good at fighting, but he never actually enjoys it - it was Tony who inspired him to join, to make a difference in the world. Steve loves that aspect of the job, but the violence is often too much for him, and he especially worries about such a potentially dangerous mission after over three years of nothing. No amount of training can prepare him for the real thing, for the mental toll it’s going to have on him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you weren’t worried,” Steve says with a soft smile. Tony musters up one of his own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not worried about the soldier; I know you’re more than capable. I’m worried about my </span>
  <em>
    <span>husband</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I’m worried that it’s going to feel unnatural for you, being away from me for so long, and… and you’ll freak out again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hate to break it to you, hon, but you’re just not that important to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony laughs, finally stepping back. “Mhm. Remind me again, what state were you in when you came to rescue me in Texas?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I managed to get there in time, didn’t I?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony presses a kiss to Steve’s hand. “Yeah, well, I’ll be safe at home this time, so you know where to find me when you’re done.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve watches him leave before settling down on the mattress, dropping his head in his hands, and taking a few deep breaths.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s no reason to be nervous; this is what he’s trained for.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s ready.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next Sunday: The Creature</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Creature</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter is very convoluted, I apologize.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>They had deposited the truck a mile away from the HYDRA base and walked the rest of the way, and now the four of them sit crouched behind a bush as they wait, watching the building. Sam had pulled himself up to one of the lower branches of a tree and is using binoculars as Maria uses the scope on her gun, solid red wings poking out from the top of her black jacket. She prefers hand-to-hand combat anyway, like Steve - Sam and Sharon will make the initial attack from above while Steve and Maria clean up below. Get in, arrest the miscreants, get out. It’s simple.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It </span>
  <em>
    <span>should </span>
  </em>
  <span>be simple.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam and Maria work with few words, except for codes that they must have came up with from years of working together.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yellow?” Sam asks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Orange,” Maria corrects. “South wall.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam nods once. “Copy.” Steve and Sharon share a look, lost. They usually communicate by, well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>communicating</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Sam and Maria have barely conversed since arriving here, except for a select few words, and there’s no movement, from them </span>
  <em>
    <span>or </span>
  </em>
  <span>from the base. Steve wonders why they’re waiting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why’d you ditch Oliver?” Maria says, surprising Steve by the fact that he can actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>understand </span>
  </em>
  <span>her. She lowers the binoculars and squints at the base, never once moving her eyes from it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He kept leaving his socks on the couch,” Sharon answers slowly, after giving Steve a confused look. Was Maria talking about… Sharon’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>ex </span>
  </em>
  <span>right now?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll keep an eye out for that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait, now </span>
  <em>
    <span>you two</span>
  </em>
  <span> are dating?” Steve exclaims, and Sam shushes him sharply. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, and we’re still on a stakeout, so keep your voice down,” Maria says, her voice steady.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Isn’t that, like, forbidden amongst friends, or something?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sharon shrugs. “I’ve got no use for him anymore. Go crazy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve rolls his eyes. “Don’t any of you want to wait for your soulmate?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If he finds me, sure, but I’m not going to go searching,” Maria says absentmindedly, as if they’re just making light conversation. She says a string of code words to Sam that Steve doesn’t understand before continuing, “Oliver seems nice-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And his wings don’t look like a highlighter,” Steve adds under his breath. Sharon smacks his arm, and Steve adds one more tally to his mental count of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Times I’ve been slapped by Sharon</span>
  </em>
  <span>. One would be amazed at the number, if they didn’t know Sharon. To Steve, this was just another Thursday.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maria snorts from behind her binoculars. “So that’s the light I saw shining through my window last night.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t even live on my street,” Sharon says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t need to. He’s practically bioluminescent.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam says something, and Maria begins to rise from her position on the floor. Steve’s eyes shoot up to her. “Wait, what?” he asks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Go,” she explains, barely sparing him a glance. Sam lifts off into the air, looking like an eagle soaring high above. Sharon follows, a little shakier at the sudden warning, but with the movements of a trained flyer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam and Sharon set off and are immediately shot at - Steve can detect three trajectories from the ground. Sharon removes a taser gun from its holster at her waistband with ease and begins firing at one, while Sam retrieves disks hidden somewhere in his sleeves and launches them at the remaining two. The guards fall in an instant and Maria creeps forward, urging a finger to Steve to follow her as she unsheathes her own gun and hurries down to the base. Sam and Sharon meet them just in front of the entrance, all joking conversation forgotten. Their eyes are hard, constantly flitting around them. They’re in full agent mode now, prepared for an attack.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are we ready?” Steve asks Sharon.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Always,” she replies. Sam and Maria give each other a simple nod, and together, they head for the base.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve and Maria take the lead, wings tucked tightly to their backs as they sneak forward, guns held at the ready. Sam and Sharon bring up the rear, watching their backs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maria holds up a hand as Steve is about to turn the first corner and holds up her wrist, tapping something on her watch, and a mirror forms before Steve’s eyes, taking the place of the time display. Steve barely suppresses a gasp. From SHIELD, all teams receive the same weapons - taser guns, </span>
  <em>
    <span>real </span>
  </em>
  <span>guns (rarely used, only for emergencies - they want enemies interrogated, not dead), and radios. Anything extra is given only for specific missions, or the agents make the weapons for themselves, and this mission is nothing special. Maria and Sam had created their own weapons, and Sam’s weaponized disks (whatever effect they have; Steve hadn’t seen the results) and Maria’s mirror watch are designs of their own making.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve has never been more jealous.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maria holds the mirror around the corner, and a bullet immediately flies toward it, barely skimming the edge. Maria curses and retracts it, pressing herself back against the wall as an alarm begins to blare, retrieving her taser gun once more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stripes,” she says to Steve, and prepares to spring. Steve lifts an arm, holding her back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” he hisses, and Maria squeezes her eyes shut, mentally kicking herself. A codeword with Sam, Steve assumes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m going to cross the hallway to the other side. As soon as I get there, we’ll both shoot into the centre.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She moves before Steve has the chance to stop her, somersaulting across the open space. Two bullets embed themselves in the wall behind her as she moves to crouch on the other side and immediately shifts, turning and firing into the hallway. Steve realizes a second too late and turns, preparing to shoot, but his mistake is costly. A bullet skims the top of Maria’s wing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She hisses but keeps firing, and the three miscreants go down, bodies in the hallway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you okay?” Sam asks Maria quickly. She waves him off with a glower, barely sparing a glance to where a patch of red identical to the colour of her wings is making her feathers stick down. Steve winces in sympathy as he watches her wings twitch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Take Sharon,” she orders, tilting her head behind her. “Steve and I will choose this path. Bullseye.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam nods at the code and moves instantly, Sharon following, both keeping low. Maria moves to step out from behind the wall when Steve stops her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She just shakes her head in frustration and lifts her gun. Steve notices the barest of winces in her features at the strain in her left wing, but she gives no reaction otherwise, leading the way down the hallway. She sweeps her gun back and forth as she creeps her way forward in a crouch. Steve straightens behind her, watching her six, and they head through the base.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maria presses herself against the right wall - a harder target to spot, and therefore hit, on first glance, and Steve responds in creeping toward the left. They move forward and turn a corner, stopping only when they hear footsteps.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maria meets Steve’s eyes and begins doing a complicated hand movement, freezing and blowing air out through her nose when she realizes Steve won’t understand. “I’m going to ambush them,” she whispers instead. “You wait here and attack.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve hefts his gun up, preparing in position, as Maria creeps forward along the wall until she reaches the corner, pocketing her own gun and replacing it with a small blade.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The footsteps get louder. Maria’s blade glints in her hand, the red lights fusing with her wings and making her look like a devil in the dark. She waits in silence - and then, before Steve even realizes they’ve turned the corner, Maria launches herself onto their attackers, stabbing the first in the shoulder before leaping onto the second’s shoulders and using her weight to tug the miscreant onto her back. With her head between Maria's thighs Maria rolls out of the way of the gunshot of the third, strangling and currently incapacitating the soldier before jumping up to her feet. Steve fires a shot at the third and he falls, shuddering with the electricity, to the ground. Maria tasers the second soldier, retrieves her blade from the first, and nods at Steve before turning the corner and continuing through the base. Steve hurries to jog after her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He falls into line with Maria just in time to see two more soldiers round the corner toward them. Maria wastes no time in tasering them both before continuing on; Steve wonders if she even realizes he’s here.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maria’s radio buzzes to life and she lifts it to her ear without looking down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ve found the bird’s nest,” Sam’s voice crackles through. “I believe we’ve taken down the worst of them here. You two find the enhanced.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maria holds up a hand to stop Steve from turning the next corner. From her belt she retrieves a unique kind of blade, curved but deathly sharp, and throws it in front of them. It loops in the air like a boomerang, disappearing into the hallway they were just about to turn into, and Steve hears an echoing grunt. Maria retrieves the blade, keeping with the conversation. “Tell me where to go.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam leads them through the labyrinth of solid doors and sterile gray walls, technology Steve can’t even begin to understand - intense computers and complex wiring and new symbols - everywhere he looks. Maria takes the lead, following Sam’s instructions while taking down every enemy that gets in her way. Steve barely fires off two shots before Sam tells them to stop; they’ve arrived.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>To their right is a door, wide as it is large, and solid gray. It would’ve blended right into the wall had it not been for the creases around it, allowing it to open, and the small, square window at Steve’s eyeline.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sharon’s heading to you now,” Sam calls through the radio. “I’ll remain here. That thing is the last operative in the base. I’ll call SHIELD and we can begin extraction.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Copy,” Maria responds, reaching a hand for where the radio sits at her belt. “Over and out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve peers in through the window. At first he sees nothing - the same gray walls on all sides. It looks like a cube, six identical sides except for the one with the door, and Steve thinks he would go crazy if he were forced to remain in here.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What is this room?” he whispers to Maria.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’d assume where the creature’s being kept. We usually saw it outside on the training grounds-” Her words are cut off with a wince. Steve is reminded of her wound and he turns, reaching a hand to inspect it. She pulls away sharply, shooting him a glare, but Steve can see her wing trembling, watches as a feather begins to fall loose.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re injured,” he says, reaching a hand for her shuddering wing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maria slaps his hand away. “I’m fine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sharon turns the corner before Steve can insist, wings flapping gently as she touches down beside them. “Aw, you guys waited for me?” she teases. Maria glares at Steve from the corner of her eye.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Something like that. Steve, what do you see?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve sighs, moving back to the window. “Gray walls and floor. Everything looks the same. There’s no indication that anyone’s in-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Something flies at the window, and Steve jumps back. A resounding </span>
  <em>
    <span>bang </span>
  </em>
  <span>echoes from the other side of the glass. Maria shoves Steve aside and hurries to the window, but sees nothing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What was that?” Steve demands.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The creature,” Maria says, inspecting the room. “But I don’t see it anymore. It must be-” Something slams into the glass, and Maria barely blinks. “It must be waiting just around the door for us to walk in.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So how are we supposed to get to it?” Sharon asks, just as Maria’s radio buzzes to life once more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is it safe to assume that thing can’t fit through the window?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maria catches on instantly, driving her elbow through the glass. It shatters and red begins to bloom on her elbow, small pieces of glass embedding themselves under the skin. She barely reacts, pulling her taser from its holster and aiming it inside the room. Sharon and Steve form a barrier around her, preparing to fight if Sam was wrong, if the creature takes aim at them through the window.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“SHIELD,” Maria calls. “Move to the centre of the room. Do not make any sudden movements and we will peacefully arrest you.” Nothing happens. The room continues to appear vacant. Steve and Sharon share a look, but Maria doesn’t move from her stance. “Last chance. Come out into the open, or we’ll come in, and we’re not planning on taking you peacefully.” Nothing happens, and Steve’s brow furrows. Is the creature still in there, waiting by the door? It can’t possibly have left, right?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What are they going to face when they enter the room?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re coming in,” Maria shouts, before pulling the radio back up to her lips and pushing the button to speak. “Sam?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“On it. It’s a slide door. It’ll open from left to right. Opening now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maria pockets her radio, looking behind her to see that Sharon and Steve both have their guns drawn. She chooses to pocket hers and instead unsheathes a pair of daggers from her sleeves, wielding one in either hand as she crouches into a fighting stance.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a hiss, the door begins to slide open.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maria tenses in her crouch, waiting to defend as the door disappears into the wall, revealing the room inch by inch. Sharon and Steve move to block either way of the hallway in case the creature decides to run. They wait as the door opens - a quarter of the way, then half. The creature definitely should be able to fit through by now, but nothing is happening. The room is empty - at least, by what the group of them perceive.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maria looks first to Sharon, then to Steve. She lifts a hand and thinks for a moment, most likely trying to adjust the complicated gestures she has with Sam into something the two of them will understand. She gestures the knife in her hand to herself, then the room, then up at the ceiling. She switches her finger between Steve and Sharon, then to the wall behind her. She’ll enter the room and fire up at where she </span>
  <em>
    <span>thinks </span>
  </em>
  <span>the creature is, above the door, and Steve nods, ready to watch her back with Sharon.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maria gives them a nod, tenses her legs, and springs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She dives into the room, curling into a roll, and standing on the other side of the doorway. Steve moves instantly to accommodate her, moving to stand in the doorway, Sharon further back. He watches as Maria throws a knife above Steve’s head, but her eyes are widening as she steps back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A flash of black crosses Steve’s vision and the creature is atop Maria, a hand to her throat, a knee on her stomach. Steve fires instantly and the creature barely stumbles back, giving Maria enough room to roll out of the way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The creature stands slowly, dropping into a fighting stance and taking the three of them in. Steve inches into the room, weaving around the figure clad head-to-toe in black, and Sharon takes his place in the doorway. The creature is surrounded, three to one, but Steve’s not so confident in their odds.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maria moves first, throwing her dagger. The figure moves quickly, running up the wall to flip over it. Sharon shoots, but the creature manages to dodge in mid air, landing back on its feet. Sharon fires another shot as Steve pulls his own trigger, and the creature dodges the first bullet, but can’t avoid the second. It nicks their shoulder and the creature falls to their knees, left shoulder twitching with the energy, locking and going lax at a painful speed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve hears a growl and aims again as the creature turns to him. Maria takes the opportunity and dives, throwing her foot around the creature’s ankle and knocking them onto their stomach. They fall with a high-pitched cry and Maria moves quickly, straddling their waist and pinning their hands to the floor with her knees.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shoot it,” she grits out as the creatures writhes beneath her. She forces her hands to their shoulders to pin them down, but they’re strong. She won’t have control for much longer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sharon hefts up her gun. “But you’ll get-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do it!” Maria shouts, and Sharon fires.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The bullet attaches to the creature’s neck and they seize with a gasp of pain, twitching as they try to fight the electricity locking up their muscles. Maria trembles and tilts to the side, electricity making its way up and through her. She manages to drag herself away from the groaning creature and lays, panting, on the floor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nice shot,” she breaths up to Sharon, who takes a deep breath and pockets her gun. Maria turns her head to the side, eyelids twitching and breath hitching, and takes a good look at the figure, and Steve follows suit. He seriously looks at them for the first time since the fight began, taking in the thick, black suit consisting of various zippers and buckles, the mask that’s one with the rest of the outfit and that appears to be fixed to the creature’s face. It has goggle-like screens over the eyes and small holes for the nose, and if Steve doesn’t know any better he’d say the creature is a robot. They had jumped impossibly high, dodged bullets, and became a blur when they ran. The taser, which had knocked out all other soldiers the group had passed in the hallway, had hit them </span>
  <em>
    <span>twice</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and still, this creature is still fighting, head turned to the side as they… </span>
  <em>
    <span>snarl</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And yet, the body shape is distinctly human, feet wearing slipper-like shoes kicking out, hands coated in mesh gloves clenching and unclenching.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve has no idea what they’re dealing with.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maria reaches a shaking hand to the radio at her belt and it takes her a few tries to unclasp it and press the button. “We g-got it,” she manages to stutter, still recovering from the electricity, as she attempts to push herself to her feet. Sharon hurries over and helps her to sit up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What is it?” Sam asks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maria looks back at the figure, body twitching, limbs moving unnaturally, the snarls and gasps they’re emitting from behind the mask.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have no idea.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next Sunday: The Captive</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. The Captive</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Sam slides behind the wheel of their vehicle as Sharon helps a still-trembling Maria into the passenger’s seat before situating herself in the back beside Steve. Sam drives them out of the forest and back onto the road, and they begin the two-hour trip back home.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For the first couple of minutes, the vehicle is silent, aside from Maria’s quivering breaths. And then, Sam speaks up. “What did you see?” he asks quietly, sending a concerned glance to Maria.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just what you said,” answers Sharon. “Fast, strong. I mean, they were still fighting after being hit with </span>
  <em>
    <span>two </span>
  </em>
  <span>of SHIELD’s electric bullets. Look at what just one, second-hand, did to Maria.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m f-f-fine,” she stutters out angrily, through gritted (chattering) teeth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, well, as long as you’re f-f-fine,” Sam mocks gently, carefully sliding off his blouson jacket as he maintains his grip on the wheel. He gets it over his shoulders before asking Steve to help him ease it around his wings. Sam takes it back from him with one hand, beginning to ease it over Maria, when he notices a single, fallen red feather on the centre console.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You got shot,” Sam notes quietly, with a hint of panic behind his words. “That’s why you’re still shaking. Your hemoglobin level is dropping.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Pull over,” Sharon tells Sam. “Let her switch with Steve. I can try to patch it up until we get to a medic.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam pulls the car to the side of the road and Steve hurries out, guiding Maria, along with Sam’s jacket, to the seat he had just occupied and taking her spot beside Sam. Sharon gets to work quickly, feeling gently along the wing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shouldn’t be too bad,” she notes after a moment. “We just have to stop the bleeding, and you may not be able to fly for a while. Your wing might stiffen up, so you’re going to have to do some exercises.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I prefer attacking from the ground, anyway,” Maria answers with a poorly-concealed grimace.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry, Sam,” Sharon calls, removing his jacket from around Maria’s shoulders. “You’re going to need to buy a new piece of outerwear.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Damn,” Sam says from the front seat, but his voice lacks gravity. Maria’s his partner; he’ll protect her. He always has her back. “Put it on Bucky’s tab.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So this creature,” Sharon continues as she secures the jacket around the wound. Maria lets out a gasp as the vehicle goes over a bump, and Steve winces. “What are they? Robot, alien-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Human,” Steve says quietly, surprising himself. He turns his gaze from the window and is met with three confused expressions. “Gotta be. Just a human. One they’ve trained and… and enhanced, somehow, but I’m sure of it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How?” Sam asks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I… I don’t know. Just a hunch.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, okay. I completely understand now.” Steve rolls his eyes at Sam’s sarcasm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Actually, I think so, too,” Maria comments as Sharon finishes on her wing and sits back. Maria gives it a small flutter. The feathers tremble slightly as she tucks it to her back. “Maybe their movements weren’t that of a human’s, but their actions definitely were.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam clears his throat. “Come again?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A human, just especially trained in combat. An extraterrestrial wouldn’t know those fighting stances. A humanoid wouldn’t know enough to hide behind the door, and… it </span>
  <em>
    <span>whimpered</span>
  </em>
  <span>, didn’t you hear? As it was being electrocuted. It gasped and groaned and-” Maria shakes her head, biting gently on her lower lip. “Those are the responses of a human in pain.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve looks back at her, listening to the sensitive tone in her voice. “You’re feeling sympathetic toward this creature.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Toward this </span>
  <em>
    <span>human</span>
  </em>
  <span>, yes,” Maria corrects sharply. “They’re small, smaller than the other soldiers. They never would’ve been recruited which means… they’re a victim.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Or, they could have volunteered-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No one volunteers for that,” Maria interrupts. Steve falls silent, and she takes a deep breath. “That’s a human, I’m sure of it. Sam, take us to SHIELD headquarters.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam finds her eyes in the rearview mirror. “Excuse me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve got to make sure Fury doesn’t hurt them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But we don’t even know for sure-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please,” Maria says, her voice cracking. Sam’s eyes remain on hers for a moment longer. He must see something in them, because he sighs, changing lanes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine,” he concedes. Steve tries to meet Maria’s eyes, but she’s lost, looking out the window at the passing trees. He turns to Sharon instead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How were you back there?” he asks. Sharon rolls her shoulders back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Killed it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure did,” Sam adds. “You guys should come out on missions with us more often.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh-uh,” Maria cuts in, words sluggish, as if there’s something else on her mind. “I refuse to get shot again.” Steve blushes red.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, okay,” Sam sighs, turning back to the wheel. “Offer revoked.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Damn it, Steve,” Sharon sighs, reaching forward to slap Steve’s shoulder. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sharon slap count, +1</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “Do I have to carry the weight for this team on my own? I fought off three guys at once-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“As I was knocking down the other four,” Sam adds quickly. Sharon rolls her eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I would’ve done more, but Maria was stealing all my thunder!” Steve protests.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You never had any in the first place,” Maria murmurs, straight-faced. Sharon and Sam laugh, but Steve’s brow furrows. Maria remains facing the window, barely involved in their conversation. There’s something going on in her head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam nudges Steve’s shoulder. “She didn’t mean it, man, come on,” he says, mistaking Steve’s silence. Steve reluctantly turns back to face the front and settles in his seat, preparing for the long, tense drive ahead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam turns on the radio, and 80’s R&amp;B begins to fill the car. He taps his fingers on the wheel as Sharon hums along in the backseat, and Steve retrieves his phone from his pocket.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>&lt;&lt; Mission successful. Heading over to SHIELD now. Won’t be home until later.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He gnaws on his lip as he awaits Tony’s response.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>&gt;&gt; Why?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>&lt;&lt; Have to check in about something.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>&gt;&gt; Ooh, mysterious. I expect details when you get home.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve sighs, not knowing how to answer. He would love to tell Tony about everything they’ve discovered, the discussions they’ve had, but he wasn’t even sure what he was dealing with yet - how could he tell Tony about something he didn’t even know himself? He opted to respond with nothing, and it wasn’t long before Tony typed out a new message.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>&gt;&gt; Don’t get home too late. Love you.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>&lt;&lt; You know I won’t stay away from you for longer than I have to. See you soon.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He tucks his phone back into his pocket.</span>
</p>
<p><span>∞</span> <span>◑</span> <span>∞</span></p>
<p>
  <span>Sam flashes his ID to the guard at SHIELD headquarters and he’s allowed inside, parking his car underground. The four of them pile into the elevator, Sharon assessing Maria’s wing in silence as it rises.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maria’s face grows paler the longer they’re forced to wait. Steve would assume it’s from blood loss, if he didn’t know better, but she had been quiet since the realization that this creature very well might be human. Steve wonders why.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The elevator comes to a stop and the doors open to a large room, all shining white and sharp corners. Sam leads the group up to the front desk, where a receptionist with coily hair and a nose ring smiles up at them. If he notices the woman with her wing bleeding out, he doesn’t mention it. It’s probably not the weirdest thing he’s seen in a typical work day.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, Sharon! Long time, no see! How can I help you?” he greets. Nice guy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, hi, Davis,” Sharon says with a pained smile. An ex, then.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wilson, Hill, Rogers, and Carter here to meet with the Director,” Sam says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re the four who just completed that HYDRA raid.” Steve gives a nod of confirmation. “Your convicts are down in the interrogation room; Fury’s headed down there soon.” Davis shoots a pained look to Maria. “We should get you to a medic while you wait-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maria shakes her head, swallowing thickly. “No, I need to speak with him first.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Davis nods in understanding. “Head on down. They’re in block C. I’ll send a medic to you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve can’t help but notice Maria’s pale face as they proceed through the building. Ahead of him, Sam’s wings twitch with nervous anticipation, and Steve imagines his would be doing the same if they weren’t tucked beneath his jacket. Sharon remains at the back with Maria, guiding her along, and as much as Maria tries to brush Sharon off and tell her she’s fine, Steve notices Maria leaning against her. Her strength is waning. Steve hopes she gets her answers fast and is finally comfortable with getting medical attention, before she passes out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After a couple of security checkpoints they reach the interrogation wing of the building and head over to block C. Identical doorways line both sides of the hallway, one-way mirrors on every room, allowing Steve to peer in. There’s a table in the centre of each room, bolted to the floor. Each perpetrator has different methods of keeping them contained. Majority simply have handcuffs affixed to the tables. Some have nothing, and Steve figures they haven’t been marked as a threat, or are simply witnesses, but it’s the opposite side of the spectrum that startles him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Some culprits are sitting in what look to be steel chairs, thick bands wrapped around their chests and securing their wrists and ankles to the chair. They glare menacingly at the glass, as if they can see through. One is even blindfolded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve suppresses a shudder and continues walking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fury comes into view just ahead, flanked by a man in a SHIELD uniform to his left. He dismisses the agent when he sees the group approaching.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They take spots around the glass, looking into the room. Fury casts a guarded glance to Maria’s bleeding wing, but says nothing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The creature is inside, secured to their chair as the most dangerous culprits are. They fight against their metal restraints but make no progress. They continue to thrash, and Steve can only bear to watch them for a moment longer before looking away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have you gotten any answers yet?” Sam asks, looking at the creature like a puzzle to be solved, like an experiment under a microscope.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We barely managed to get it into a chair before you arrived. I was just discussing with Coulson how we should proceed and what questions to ask it-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Them,” Maria corrects, voice trembling. Fury gives her a funny look.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you know something we don’t, Hill?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maria purses her lips together. “Just an assumption.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ve dealt with humanoid creatures before. What makes you think this one is man?” Maria gives Fury a pleading look, and he stops speaking, lifting his chin slightly - in understanding?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We were deciding what to ask them,” Fury corrects with a sympathetic look in her direction. Steve shares a glance with Sam, but neither speak up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t believe they’ve volunteered for this, Nick. Go easy on them. Please.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fury doesn’t react to the use of his first name. “I can’t promise anything, especially because we caught i- them, working with HYDRA. We can’t make exceptions based on hunches-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You did before.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” Fury concedes after a moment, though he doesn’t look happy about it. “We’ll go easy. Innocent until proven guilty.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maria nods. “Now, they’re going to be scared if they’ve been raised with HYDRA and- and brainwashed to follow their ideals, no they’re going to lash out, but you can’t r-react-” Maria sighs and slumps against Sharon’s side. Fury rushes forward to help but Maria lifts a weak hand to wave him off. “I’m fine-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We need to get you to a medic, </span>
  <em>
    <span>now</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Sharon urges quietly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maria shakes her head, eyes closed. “I have to p-protect….” Her eyes flitter to the glass.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fury steps forward and pulls Maria away from Sharon, taking her under his arm. “No one will enter that room while you’re away,” he assures her quietly. “I promise. But you need help.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maria nods, finally satisfied, and allows Fury to turn and guide down her hallway, talking quietly to her the whole way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ll just wait here, then,” Sam says. Sharon turns to face him, brow furrowed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re her partner, right? If anyone understands what that was, it would be you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam watches the pair’s retreating backs for a moment too long before shaking his head. “No. No idea.” He turns back to the glass, ignoring Sharon’s dismayed look. “I’d love to be able to get in there and ask them some questions.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sharon looks down the hallway and finds they’re alone. “Why don’t you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam laughs. “Are you crazy?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not in the slightest. No one’s here. If Maria’s right and they’re friendly, you’re not in danger.” The creature lets out a pained whimper, and Sharon’s expression softens. “They’re scared,” she whispers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam takes a shuddering breath. “No. I don’t have the jurisdiction to be in there, for one, and I don’t want to be seen in there when Fury comes back. Plus, I have no questions to ask them-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll do it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sharon looks up at Steve, but he doesn’t take his eyes off the one-way glass. “At the most, I can try to ask them some questions. At the least….” He looks to Sharon. “If what Maria said is true, they shouldn’t be alone in there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sharon nods once, setting her jaw. “Then I’m coming, too.” Steve offers her a smile amongst Sam’s sigh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you guys get yourselves killed by Fury, that’s on you. I’m staying out here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” Sharon says with narrowed eyes, “but even if he comes back and you’re standing out here, you’ll be considered a bystander, at best. Accomplice at worst. Either way, you’re getting dragged down, too. Might as well go the full nine yards.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam crumples his nose at her. “I really hate you sometimes, Carter.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Strange. We haven’t dated yet.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah. Shut up and open the door.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sharon laughs but sobers quickly as she reaches for the door handle. She unlocks it, pulling it open and  allowing Steve to step past her. She follows immediately after, leaving Sam fumbling for the door with a suppressed curse. Steve bites back a smile; it isn’t difficult when he’s faced with the person in the room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The creature goes still, and Steve can hear their breathing from across the table as their head moves quickly between the three people. Sam crosses his arms over his chest and tilts his head up while Sharon chooses to keep her hands at her side and offer them a kind smile. Steve follows her lead, keeping his hands visible and trying to look as non-threatening as possible.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello,” Sharon greets kindly. The creature looks to her, and their shoulders begin to rise and fall, chest struggling against the restraints. “You probably remember us from… back there. I’m sorry that got so rough.” She pauses, and the creature says nothing - Steve wonders if they’re even able to speak.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re not here to hurt you,” Steve says, because he feels like he should. The creature looks to him and their erratic breathing seems to subside - Steve hopes he’s not imagining it. “We want to ask you some questions about HYDRA, and what you were doing with them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The creature seems to have forced themself to be still, allowing their fingers to fall lax against the armrests and letting their head rest back against the seat. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Training</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Steve guesses. HYDRA had probably trained them for interrogations. He doubts they’re going to reveal anything easily.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My name’s Sharon,” Sharon introduces herself. The creature remains still, facing forward, even as Steve says his name and Sam reluctantly shares his own.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can you tell us your name?” Sharon asks gently. The creature says nothing. “What about… your age?” Again, there’s no response. “Your species?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The creature laughs, and Steve practically jumps out of his skin. It’s high-pitched and… and </span>
  <em>
    <span>real</span>
  </em>
  <span>, not malicious - strictly joyous, and happy, but still wrong. As if they haven’t laughed in a while.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They cut themself off immediately, as if realizing they made a mistake. “Human,” the creature says, clearing their throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sharon smiles, and Steve notices her nervously tapping her fingers against her thigh. “Thank you,” she says, but once more the person is still. Steve guesses the question was so comical they couldn’t help themselves but laugh, but now they’re realizing they made a mistake.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What about your gender?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The individual takes a deep breath, and it quivers on the exhale. Nervous. Frightened.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sharon looks first to Steve, then to Sam. “Give us a moment alone, guys.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam’s brow furrows. “Why?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think maybe I should talk to them on my own.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve gnaws nervously on his lower lip. Something about this feels wrong - the person’s changing moods, a quick laugh before falling sober…. Was Maria wrong? Is this person really a prisoner of HYDRA, or have they been a volunteer all along?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sharon shoots Steve a death glare - </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurry up and get your ass out of here</span>
  </em>
  <span> - and he files out of the room behind Sam, letting out a slow breath as he does so. The door closes behind them and they stand at the glass, watching. Even if things go wrong, the captive is fixed in that chair, and Sharon can handle herself-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s the </span>
  <em>
    <span>clang </span>
  </em>
  <span>of metal falling to the ground, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>screech </span>
  </em>
  <span>of a chair skidding back, and a force shoves Sharon back hard enough to crack the glass.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next Sunday: The Cell</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The Cell</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Sam sprints into the cell and throws his body onto the captive, sending them tumbling to the ground. Steve hurries to Sharon’s side, but she shoves him away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That son of a bitch manipulated me,” she growls, before storming across the room to where Sam has the convict pinned to the wall. She grabs their arms and forces them behind their back, knocking the culprit to the ground in the process. She places her knee on their back as they struggle, but Sharon doesn’t let up, anger clear on her face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maria was wrong about you,” she spits out as the creature writhes beneath her, almost slipping free. Steve steps forward to help but Sharon adjusts her grip, applying more pressure to their back. “And I was wrong to believe her. You’re not a victim.” She digs her knee into the creature’s upper back, and they cry out, but Sharon doesn’t relent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam makes an attempt to step forward as the creature begins to gasp. “Sharon-” She shoots him a look that has him retreating back to the wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please,” the captive begs, voice trembling. “My- my wing-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sharon lowers her head to beside the creature’s ear. “Not this time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” they whisper. “Please- it </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurts</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sharon,” Steve warns in a low voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> manipulate me again,” she snarls, before releasing the pressure, all at once. She pushes herself to her feet, standing above the creature, as they curl in on themselves, a hand reaching to their back to gently brush against where the wing is plastered to their back, beneath the suit-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve tenses, a realization crashing over him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The suit HYDRA had made the soldier don is tight - though it’s not tight enough to restrict movement, it’s enough to see definition of muscles and bone underneath, but Steve sees no feathers, no geometric outline of  wings, folded carefully on top of the other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maria’s wing had been shot, and she had reacted less violently than one with a knee on their wings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sharon storms out of the cell, and Sam follows slowly, not once taking his eyes off the creature. Steve inches after him, creeping backward, eyes fixed to the sniffling creature on the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His swirling thoughts only grow more violent when he hears quiet conversation out in the hallway after closing the door behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He casts a wary glance toward Sam and Sharon, the latter of whom looks downright livid while the former seems to be prepared to stop her, lest she return back into the room. They don’t seem aware of the voices, but something tells Steve to follow them, like the pull of a rope around his leg. He follows it as it guides him around a corner, but he stops before entering the hallway and leans against the wall, listening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop fussing, I’m fine.” That’s Maria’s voice. “I’m all patched up, and I can be back in the field, nice and ready, for my next mission-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Which will not be for another month, at </span>
  <em>
    <span>least</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Not if I have anything to say about it.” Fury.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maria sighs. “Fine. But can I still hang around here? Maybe I can help train the new agents, or-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No one’s going to touch that prisoner, not before we get proof that they’re deserving of it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve imagines Maria’s rueful grin at being seen through, while appreciating the support. “I know you don’t trust me on this, but what if it’s just like before? We thought she was bad, too. It took a couple of weeks for her to begin to come around.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And it was thanks to signs I saw in her from the beginning that convinced me to provide her with those weeks. This creature has given me no such indications.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop calling them a </span>
  <em>
    <span>creature!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Maria hisses, and Steve flinches at the venom in her tone. “They’re human, Nick, I know it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please</span>
  </em>
  <span>, trust me on this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment there’s silence as Fury considers her words. “I already promised you we won’t touch them-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need more than that. I need to know you believe me. I know what I’m talking about, Nick. I have the experience. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve’s breath catches as he waits for an answer, but he’s only met with footsteps, growing louder and lessening in distance. Steve hurries back to Sharon and Sam before he can be spotted.</span>
</p><p><span>∞</span> <span>◑</span> <span>∞</span></p><p>
  <span>Maria and Fury arrive back at the viewing window just moments after Steve had, and Fury strides forward immediately, squinting at the crack in the window.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I leave you for ten minutes,” he sighs with regards to the group.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maria shoves past Steve, hurrying to Fury’s side - but she’s not looking </span>
  <em>
    <span>at </span>
  </em>
  <span>the window, she’s looking through it, at where the captive lies, curled up on their side on the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did you do?” she asks forcefully, shoulders rising and falling with each angry breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How the hell did they break out-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you go inside?” Maria demands incedulously over Fury’s musings, turning sharply to face Steve. Steve steps back under her intense gaze. “Answer my question,” she spits out, hands clenching and unclenching at her side. She moves to step forward but stops when Sam places a gentle hand on her chest. “Get your hand off me, Wilson, or you’re going to lose it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We just wanted to ask them a couple of questions-” he tries, but Maria interrupts him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I warned you to get </span>
  <em>
    <span>away </span>
  </em>
  <span>from me-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you all stop bickering like children!” Sharon yells, and all eyes turn to her. “Questions, unassuming, non judgemental, one at a time. I’ll give you the answers. Go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maria takes a deep breath, an attempt at calm; but when she speaks, her voice comes out quieter, though no less demanding. "Why did you go inside?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To ask questions. We wanted answers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maria fumes, but Fury speaks up before she can reply. “How did the glass break?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They threw me into it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They threw- they left the chair? How?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pretty easily, it looks like.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maria casts a glance back inside the cell. “What happened?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The three of us walked in. They tricked me into believing that they were scared. When I sent Sam and Steve out of the room, they attacked me.” Sharon takes a shaky breath at the intense glare Maria levels in her direction. “I… reacted. I was upset at being manipulated, and I fought back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fought back, how?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pinned them to the floor,” Sharon answers quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But they were a bitch to capture in the first place. How’d you manage to subdue them on your own?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They must have a weakness on their back. They said something about their wings.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maria’s eyes practically bulge out of her head. “They </span>
  <em>
    <span>said </span>
  </em>
  <span>something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sharon rubs the back of her neck as she shuffles her feet. “They… apologized. Begged.” She adds the last word reluctantly. “Cried.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maria’s muscles tense, and her eyes grow cold. “You put them in a stress position.” Sam steps forward slightly, putting his shoulder in Maria’s path.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re a team, Maria. We’re not the enemy here. You’ve got to stay calm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No one touches them,” Maria growls. “That’s what we discussed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sharon steps forward, shaking her head. “What if you’re wrong about them? What if they’re not a victim? What if they’re actually a volunteer that we’re treating with too much kindness? It’s already been proven that SHIELD’s restraints won’t stop them. If they decide to break out….” Sharon trails off when Maria’s anger only seems to rise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You three should leave,” she says, fighting to keep her voice level. “I’m going to wait here, with them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fury places a careful hand on her shoulder. “You should go, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She levels a glare in his direction. “I’m not leaving them again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, Fury sighs. “Alright. You three, get out of here. We’ll have this handled going forward. This case is no longer any of your concern.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sharon turns sharply and storms from the hallway, Steve following sheepishly after. Sam leaves last, after a meaningful look to Maria that Steve can’t quite decipher.</span>
</p><p><span>∞</span> <span>◑</span> <span>∞</span></p><p>
  <span>When Steve returns home he’s weary, tired to the bone, although realistically he had only been out of the house for seven hours, at the most. He takes a moment to just breathe in the entryway, trying to process all the information that had been thrown at him, before hearing the sound of voices. He follows them to the kitchen and finds Tony and Rhodes, sitting beside each other at the kitchen table. Tony has his head on Rhodes’ shoulder as they laugh - Steve clearly just missed a joke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey!” Tony greets him from Rhodes’ shoulder. “Welcome home. How was the mission?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve heads to the cabinet above the stove, grabbing a glass and beginning to fill it at the sink. “It was… something. Hi, Rhodes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Been a while,” Rhodes greets. Steve nods in acknowledgement as he gulps down the contents of the glass, quickly rendering it empty. Tony carefully lifts himself from Rhodes’ shoulder and hurries to Steve’s side as Rhodes assesses the situation, excusing himself to the living room under the pretence of receiving a phone call.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony places his fingers under Steve’s chin and turns Steve’s head to meet his eyes. “Hey. Talk to me. What happened? Did you find the creature?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve meets Tony’s eyes and feels his walls crumbling. He can’t even begin to recognize, to hide, the confusion he feels at the day’s events. He barely nods his answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony slides the glass from Steve’s hands, filling it once more at the tap. “And?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was….” Steve accepts the glass Tony offers him with trembling fingers. “Human.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony analyzes Steve’s features. If that’s all there is to it, Steve wouldn’t be so shaken up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you apprehend them? Learn anything?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve chugs the liquid like it’s alcohol. Tony considers offering him some. “Do you know anything about the missions Maria and Sam go on?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah. They always debrief me before they leave.” Steve glares at him, and Tony gives him an apologetic look, the corner of his mouth twitching up. “No, I don’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve nods in recognition, moving to look straight ahead. “There was one… similar to this one, I think. There was a - an enhanced soldier? I don’t know - working for the enemy. Maria and Fury gave them a chance and, I guess they turned out to be good, just a victim.” Tony nods, hanging on to every word. “Maria’s really fighting for this creature… this </span>
  <em>
    <span>human?</span>
  </em>
  <span> To be okay, to be treated as kindly and with as much care as possible, to give them a chance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you’re trying to figure out the connection?” Steve nods. “You could always just ask her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t seem like something she’d be comfortable sharing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Still, you can ask.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve gives Tony a funny look. “I’ll consider it,” he says, but his expression states the obvious. “Anyway, this soldier was seemingly indestructible. It took me, Sharon, </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>Maria to take them down, and even then, we didn’t all come out unscathed. Back at SHIELD, Sharon… she kneeled on their back and suddenly, they’re begging for mercy. Screaming something about their wings.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And did Sharon let up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve gives Tony a pained look. “A minute later than she should’ve.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony nods once, licking his lips nervously. “She kneeled on his back? But wings… they aren’t that sensitive, and they especially shouldn’t be with a trained soldier.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Exactly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony exhales a slow breath from his mouth before plastering on a fake smile. Steve can see through it, and he guesses Tony’s aware, but Tony grabs his hand anyway and leads him back to the table. “Rhodey was just telling me about all the shit he had to put up with as Sharon’s temporary partner.” His loud voice calls Rhodes from the nearby room, letting him know it’s safe for him to return.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me tell you,” Rhodes calls as he heads down the hallway toward him, “working with Tony is no piece of cake, but I’d take him over that pink-winged heathen any day. What’s up with all these young people, thinking they’re invincible?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve settles back in his chair and prepares to listen, a small smile beginning to grow, but though he acknowledges the words, he never truly hears them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His thoughts are somewhere else, in a dreary cell with a small creature curled up in the centre, sobbing at their predicament.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next Sunday: The Feather</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. The Feather</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Steve can’t sleep.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He tosses and turns all night, much to Tony’s indignation, who emits groans as he sleeps. Around five a.m. Steve decides to give up, moving to their back porch. He stands overlooking the backyard, watching the stars twinkle faintly above. His mind is too exhausted to think but too wired to allow him to sleep, and so he stands, mindlessly watching the world come to life. The sky begins to light up, and the earliest birds begin to rise. The thought of a morning run has slipped Steve’s mind as he stands, waiting - for what, he doesn’t know.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t turn when he hears footsteps, nor when he feels hands snake their way around his waist. He knows he’s safe; he knows there’s only one other person in this house. But why this person is awake before ten, Steve has no idea.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony rests his head against Steve’s back. “I didn’t hear the usual slammings of drawers when you get dressed to go on your run,” he comments lightly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve lifts his hands to wrap around Tony’s. “Didn’t go.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Too tired?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Too… </span>
  <em>
    <span>awake</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony inches around Steve until he’s pressed between Steve and the railing. He looks worried. Steve tries to meet his eyes, maybe give him a smile that says, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m okay. It’ll be okay </span>
  </em>
  <span>- but how can he lie to his husband?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This case is out of my hands,” Steve says, “so why can’t I let it go?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The creature.” Steve just nods. “What about them is bothering you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Too much.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Try to piece it apart. Tell me something.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve smiles, amused. “When did you become a philanthropist?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Since my husband became a confused, emotional teenager.” Tony grins. “Now, let’s go. Talk to me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well… why did they react so harshly to pressure on their wings? It took three of us to take them down at the base. Sharon finds a pressure point, and manages to subdue them within seconds? It doesn’t make sense.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony frowns for a moment, thinking. “Did you actually see the wings?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. They were hidden beneath the creature’s HYDRA uniform.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, SHIELD won’t keep them in that uniform, right? It’ll be changed to prison scrubs, or something, meaning </span>
  <em>
    <span>someone </span>
  </em>
  <span>will have to see the wings beneath.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve shakes his head determinedly. “No, Maria was adamant they not be treated like a prisoner.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, whatever they’re wearing, SHIELD won’t let them keep the uniform. Who knows what might be hiding within it? They’ll provide them with </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>, another set of clothes, and SHIELD might even perform a medical checkup. You’ll get your answers.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve nods, taking a deep breath. “I guess. I’m just wondering if they’ll tell me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This was your mission, wasn’t it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fury said it’s out of my hands.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t care what he said. You’d better find out. If not for yourself, then for me. I’m starting to get curious about this, too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve’s eyes narrow playfully. “Are you trying to get me to do this by convincing me it’s for you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No!” Tony answers, as if the suggestion is preposterous, before peeking up slyly through his lashes. “Is it working?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve grins, turning his attention back to the trees that stand behind their house. “Now, what about Maria? What’s her connection to this?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I might have some idea,” Tony confesses, and Steve’s eyes shoot down to his.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I don’t know if this is true, but… I guess if you really want to find out….” Steve leans forward, hanging on to Tony’s every word. “You can ask her.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve laughs, shoving Tony back, and Tony grabs on to Steve’s collar to stay upright. Steve snakes an arm around Tony’s waist to hold him there, teasing - and then, he finally closes the distance between them for a kiss.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A flicker of yellow stands out in the corner of Steve’s vision.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He closes his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p><span>∞</span> <span>◑</span> <span>∞</span></p>
<p>
  <span>Steve stares at his phone as if it’s going to jump out at him at any moment, his finger hovering over Maria’s contact. Tony is long gone, having left to spend the day with Rhodes, leaving Steve alone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve doesn’t know why he’s so nervous to make the call. Maybe it’s because he and Maria have never been especially close, and he’s worried to pry - or maybe it’s because he’s scared of what he’ll find out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He presses the </span>
  <em>
    <span>call </span>
  </em>
  <span>button and lifts the phone to his ear before he has the chance to turn back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maria picks up on the third ring - lucky, because Steve would have hung up on the fourth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hill.” Her voice is raspy, the single syllable slurred, and Steve can’t help but wonder if she had gotten any sleep since taking up residence outside the prisoner’s cell.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, Maria, it’s Steve.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh. St-” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yawn</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “-eve. Hi.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, hi. You sound like a mess.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“People have been coming and going all night, tryna… take ‘em. Interrrrogate. Didn’t let ‘em.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Glad to hear it.” Steve lets out a slow breath. Maria sounds like she’s going to collapse at any moment - there’s no way he’s having this conversation with her now. “You sound like you need rest.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not leaving them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t say you should. I can head over there and keep an eye on them as you take a nap.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Or three.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t ask you to-” A yawn cuts her off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re not. I’m offering.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>I am? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Steve thinks sharply, holding a hand to his forehead. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What the hell are you doing, Rogers?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No one can touch them,” Maria slurs, too exhausted to argue.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No one will. I promise.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>You do? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Steve’s mind yells at him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Shut up</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he grumbles back, already heading for the door and grabbing his car keys off the hook. “I’ll be there in a half hour, okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mhm.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, try to stay awa-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The line goes dead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve sighs as he climbs into the car, tossing his phone into the passenger’s seat. Had she hung up, accidentally pressing the button with a shaking finger, or had she just collapsed on the spot? Whatever. Fury will take care of her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve presses on the gas and speeds toward the headquarters.</span>
</p>
<p><span>∞</span> <span>◑</span> <span>∞</span></p>
<p>
  <span>Maria is practically asleep by the time Steve passes security checkpoints and makes his way over to her, slouching against the viewing window. He barely manages to help her settle on one of the benches across the hall, assuring her that he would wake her if there were any new developments, before she passed out, a stone sinking into water.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve ensures she’s fine, glaring at anyone who passes by and giving the passed-out woman odd looks, before heading over to the cell.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He peers in through the glass, and sees that Tony was right - the creature is no longer wearing a SHIELD uniform, and is now dressed in gray clothes, track pants paired with a t-shirt, and is bare-footed. They’re crouched in the corner, ignoring the chair and table in the centre of the room, turned away from him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Brown hair lies in tatters down their back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Their shoulders rise and fall, olive skin pulled over taut muscles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a moment, all Steve can do is stare.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He knew - or, sorry, he had </span>
  <em>
    <span>guessed</span>
  </em>
  <span> - the creature was human. But seeing them now, trembling with breaths, matted hair reflecting the flickering lights above, Steve gets the sudden thought of, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Holy shit, they're real. They're a living, breathing person in front of me.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And that living, breathing person looks terrified.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve knows he shouldn’t go into that room. He remembers what happened last time, and he knows what might happen this time, especially if he goes in alone - but he also knows, the person in there, they look </span>
  <em>
    <span>terrified</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Curled into a ball, trying to make themselves look as small as possible, and Steve </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows </span>
  </em>
  <span>this is exactly how they were tricked last time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But something feels different.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sending a final glance to the passed-out woman behind him, Steve inches toward the door to the cell and reaches for the handle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He can’t seriously be thinking about doing this, right? This is- it’s a </span>
  <em>
    <span>terrible </span>
  </em>
  <span>idea, especially without backup.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he needs </span>
  <em>
    <span>answers</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And so, he unlocks the door and pushes it open.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The person stiffens on the other side, hearing the sound of the door clicking open, and then sliding closed. Steve stands just inside the doorway, smelling the stale air, listening to the trembling breaths of the person sitting in the opposite corner.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve positions his legs in a fighting stance, sans the crouch, ready to defend himself if needed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello,” he says. The person’s shoulders quiver, and Steve wonders if this is even the same prisoner as yesterday - no longer stoic, no longer defiant. Maria had been watching them the whole time, right? Could they have been switched without her knowledge?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you remember me?” The person doesn’t respond. “You were HYDRA’s soldier.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>am </span>
  </em>
  <span>HYDRA’s soldier.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Their words are strong, but their voice lacks heat. They sound tired, dehydrated. Maria must not be the only one who hasn’t slept.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“HYDRA won’t exist for much longer,” Steve says, keeping his voice low. “One by one, we’re attacking their bases.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cut off one head, two more shall take its place.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, I keep hearing that. Haven’t seen ‘em yet, though.” The person stays silent, and Steve takes a step closer. “Listen, we don’t want to hurt you. You made a mistake, choosing HYDRA, but you can fix it now and make the right choice-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When they spring from the corner, arms outstretched toward Steve, he’s prepared. He grabs their outstretched arms in a firm grip before tugging their body flat against his chest, all without enough time to see their face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve expects more struggling than they’re doing now; they must be weak from hunger and exhaustion, unable to escape his hold, as much as they try.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stand down, kid,” Steve urges quietly, noticing the prisoner’s height and small form. He refuses to let them go, not while there’s still a chance they’ll attack him again. Steve’s lucky to have the upper hand now; he’d hate to have to fight them on a full stomach.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not a kid,” they growl, fighting harder. Steve clenches his jaw.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This isn’t a fight you’ll be walking away from, trust me. Choose the right side.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>the right side,” they pant, struggles weakening, but not for lack of effort.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Last chance. Give up. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Their struggles grow more intense as they pant. “Hail HYDRA.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve exhales through his nose. “Sorry, kid.” He releases one arm from their chest. As they try to turn away Steve raises his elbow and drives it between their scapula. They collapse with a cry, and Steve watches sadly as they fall to the ground. “I didn’t want to do that-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bullshit,” the creature gasps, beginning to push themself back up to their elbows. Steve nudges his foot against their side, and they go sprawling back down to the floor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that all that your vocabulary consists of? HYDRA propaganda and curse words?” They spit at Steve’s feet, and Steve’s lips twist downward in distaste. Slowly he lowers himself into a crouch just beside them. They try to turn away from him but they’re too weak, and Steve gets a look at their face, distorted in pain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Almond-shaped brown eyes that hold the depth of having seen too much, freckles dotting the skin that was probably once a rosy olive colour, but is now paling with a gray tint.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What's your name, kid?" Because this person, this trained soldier, in front of him is most definitely a kid.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They frown up at him. "Petra," she concedes finally, dropping her eyes in defeat. Greasy hair falls in front of her face and Steve watches it sadly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m Steve,” he introduces. She doesn’t react. “I’m really sorry, Petra. I wish you hadn’t chosen the wrong side.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Wrong?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” she repeats up to him, a small fire burning behind her eyes. “So far both of you have kept me in cages, kept me locked up from the outside world. Deprived me of my </span>
  <em>
    <span>life</span>
  </em>
  <span>. But one side trained me to be better, gave me skills I couldn’t fathom, and made me stronger than I ever was. And when I gain that strength back, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>will </span>
  </em>
  <span>come for you. So you tell me again.” She leans in closer, and Steve meets her eyes, so young to be holding so much anger. “Which side is the wrong one?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve shakes his head, moving to stand. He wants to be angry, to threaten her to cooperate, but as much as she tries to deny it, as much as she tries to prove that her predicament was </span>
  <em>
    <span>her </span>
  </em>
  <span>choice and that she wants to be here, she’s still just a child. Just a confused child.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It would be in your best interest to cooperate,” he tells her quietly. She glares up at him from the floor, a hand drifting to her back, and he looks away. “We don’t want to make this any harder than it has to be. You won’t be escaping from here. That’s not a threat, just a statement. HYDRA’s not coming for you. Their bases are being destroyed as we speak, and I can’t honestly say they’d come for you if they could. You’re just another soldier to them. Expendable.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Petra gives a dry laugh. “You don’t know that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m afraid I do. I’ve been watching these bases for a long time-” </span>
  <em>
    <span>a lie-</span>
  </em>
  <span> “and there are tons of soldiers like you out there. We take them in, and HYDRA leaves them behind, every single time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Petra smiles, her face lighting up with a twisted glee that makes Steve want to recoil. “No, there aren’t,” she whispers, reaching a hand to the wall on her left. Steve watches it, a pit of perturbation beginning to grow in his stomach as she makes contact with the wall and uses it to pull herself up. Without breaking eye contact, she braces both hands against the wall, then her left foot… and she raises her right from the ground.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All Steve can do is stare, his mouth falling open in horror as Petra remains suspended in the air, hanging off the wall like a spider, limbs twisted and angled unnaturally in order to support himself. Her grin grows, a darkness behind her eyes spreading and threatening to consume him. He takes an unsure step back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you?” he whispers, disconcerted. Petra lets out a humourless laugh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m the Spider. And I’m the only one.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>One by one she releases her fingers from the wall and slowly lowers herself back down to the floor as if she were floating, seemingly defying gravity, and Steve reaches a hand to the door behind him, ready to flee - but before he can, something catches his eye.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A feather flutters to the floor just behind Petra. It must have become dislodged from her wing with all the fighting, and the demonstration of her abilities was the final straw to shake it loose. Steve notices it, and all confusion is replaced with a new sense of horror.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s the same colour he’s woken up to for fourteen years, the one that sends him off in the morning and welcomes him home at night, the one that wraps around his shoulder when they're curled in bed and the one that shelters him during walks in the park. It's the colour that brings him so much confusion, that provides him with so much love.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The feather is yellow, a pale yellow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The feather is Tony's.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next Sunday: The Soulmate</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. The Soulmate</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
  <span>Steve reaches for the feather, his sudden advance without a glance in Petra’s direction shocking her enough to make her step back. He stoops to pick up the feather on the floor. When Petra sees what he’s reaching for she lunges forward in an attempt to stop him, but Steve whirls around, a hand outstretched and directed to her throat. Petra freezes, eyes wide, shocked at the sudden change in attitude.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Steve’s eyes widen as he looks from the feather to Petra’s wide, confused, and maybe even a little scared eyes, and he steps back, horrified. He hurries out of the cell without another thought, feather clenched tightly in his left hand as he locks the door with his right and remains standing with his forehead against the door. Each new pant mixes with a sob and the result is a strangled sound emitted from deep in his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With his eyes squeezed shut in denial, Steve moves the feather from his left hand to his right and strokes his forefinger along it, feeling every nook, every divot, every feeling he’d tried to tell himself was normal, every feeling he’d forced himself to appreciate just as much as any other. He wishes, hopes, </span>
  <em>
    <span>prays </span>
  </em>
  <span>it would feel unfamiliar. Maybe the yellow tapers off to a green in parts of Petra's wing he doesn't see.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hopes prove false.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He remembers feeling this exact feather - it sits in the second row of feathers on Tony's right wing, and three from the outside. It's soft like Steve's feathers never were, round where Steve's are sharp, and this only means one thing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That soldier, that spider, that </span>
  <em>
    <span>creature</span>
  </em>
  <span> in there, that's Tony's soulmate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve hears dragging footsteps behind him and turns to see Maria rising from the bench, rubbing a hand across her eyes. Steve adjusts his right hand, holding the feather behind his back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's been ten minutes," he sighs, both exasperated with her determination, as well as confused at his most recent discovery - and angry, frustrated, disappointed, and every other emotion under the sun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Only needed five," she slurs in response. "I miss anything?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve nervously runs his finger along the feather behind his back, his mouth twisting into a frown as his heartbeat escalates. He tries to speak, but it comes out as a cough. He clears his throat and tries again. "No."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's a good thing Maria's too exhausted to notice. "Huh. They moved."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"She." The correction slips out before Steve can stop it, and he mentally curses himself, clutching the feather tighter behind his back, as Maria stares incredulously up at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>She?</span>
  </em>
  <span>" she repeats, and Steve squeezes his eyes shut, rubbing a hand against his forehead. "What is </span>
  <em>
    <span>that?</span>
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve tenses, his blood running cold. He had lifted his right hand, the one with the feather, yellow flickering at the top of his vision. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve shrugs, feigning nonchalance. "Tony's," he says sheepishly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And how'd you know they're a female?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well- have you seen their hair?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"They were a captive in a terrorist facility for who knows how many years. Do you think they were provided with a comb and a pair of scissors? A hairdresser, perhaps?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fair point," Steve concedes, biting the inside of his cheek. Maria's eyes narrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're lying to me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I- I'm not-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shut up." Steve falls silent, watching Maria's red wings twitch in anger. "What are you hiding?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve crosses his arms over his chest. "I want some answers, too. Why have you been fighting so hard for this kid?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"How do you know they're a-" Maria shakes her head. "That's none of your business."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah? Well, neither is my information. I'll take it straight to Fury, if necessary. It'll never reach you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maria's cheek twitches with barely concealed anger, but she remains otherwise still. Steve wonders if she's frozen until she moves all at once, lurching forward to grab his arm and shove him backward into a dark, quiet hallway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve looks back behind her. "What about-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What do you know?" she demands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve swallows thickly. "Her name is Petra," he begins, desperate to know Maria's information, and maybe she can help him understand what he's learned. Her eyes widen at what he tells her, every piece of information seeming to astound her. "She's fourteen."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What, she told you?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, I…" Steve does the math in his head, thinks back to the moment he woke up to find his whole world changed. "I just… know."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You just know," Maria repeats with a scoff. Steve finds himself getting defensive, and before he can stop himself he holds out the yellow feather, a stark contrast standing out against the white hallway around them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This isn’t Tony’s feather,” Steve says quickly, speaking in a low voice. “Well, it is, but it didn’t come from his wings.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maria’s brow furrows. “What-” And then she freezes, eyes growing wide, realization crashing over her. “His soulmate.” Steve just nods, lips pinched together. “Is she…?” He nods again, pulling the feather back to his side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ho-ly shit,” she whispers, words drawn out, expressing </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly </span>
  </em>
  <span>what Steve is feeling in this moment. “Have you told-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I haven’t told him! I’ve barely gotten over the shock factor enough to realize it for mysel- ho-ly shit. That’s his soulmate, in there, locked in a cell. That’s his </span>
  <em>
    <span>soulmate. </span>
  </em>
  <span>That’s his other hal- his other, </span>
  <em>
    <span>other </span>
  </em>
  <span>half. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m </span>
  </em>
  <span>his other half! But he’s not a half, he’s a third, and how am I supposed to be a third to someone who’s my half-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve’s head snaps to the side and his cheek stings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you just slap me?” he shouts, and Maria shrugs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were spiraling. And I’d do it again, so keep your voice down.” Steve frowns, raising his hand to rub at his cheek - but the feather comes up with it, and he shivers as he forces his hand back to his side. “Step one is to tell Tony.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, no. Step one is for you to tell me what you’re hiding.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My secret doesn’t hold a candle to </span>
  <em>
    <span>this, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Steve, okay? You have to tell your </span>
  <em>
    <span>husband </span>
  </em>
  <span>that his soulmate is out here. You owe that to him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But she’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>fourteen</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Tony is forty-five. How can a forty-five-year-old have a fourteen year old soulmate?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Soulmates aren’t always romantically connected, okay? It can be a platonic connection, or a familial one, or some kind of mentor-mentee, saviour and victim, teacher-student thing, but you will never find out until you </span>
  <em>
    <span>tell him</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve shakes his head, lips pursed. “Not until I learn more, and not until I can be in the same room as her without her trying to kill me, okay? Your turn.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maria practically growls, and Steve feels like her eyes will begin shooting lasers at him if she doesn’t look away soon, but he holds her gaze anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This has happened before,” she begins to explain simply. “Sam and I went out on a mission. We found a kid, being trained to fight. She would’ve become an assassin… she was on her way there, actually. There were a couple of close calls. We brought her to SHIELD, and they interrogated her. Treated her like any other evil villain.” She drops her voice and leans in closer, and Steve notices something behind her eyes, something shattered and broken. “She wasn’t evil. She was </span>
  <em>
    <span>seven</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Steve, and they… they broke her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maria casts a frantic glance back to the cell. “I’ve got to get back to Petra-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve grabs her arm, holding her in place. “She’s fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve got to stop them from doing to her what they did to- to-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did they do?” Steve demands in a hushed whisper. Maria meets his gaze, the muscles in her face twitching.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They interrogated her, Steve.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t understand-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maria steps closer, and Steve can feel her breath on his neck as she leans in close. “Take Nick Fury,” she hisses, voice trembling. Steve wants to step back, but that would seem like a betrayal to her. “And then, take the worst criminal you’ve ever brought to him. How did Fury interrogate them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fury wouldn’t do that to a- a seven-year-old.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” Maria gives a pained smile. “Why do you think I was so eager to get back here? Why do you think I never left Petra’s side?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She steps back and turns away, leaving Steve alone in the hallway, staring after her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had asked. Why had he asked? Now all he has is more questions, more worries - concerns about what Fury really is, and what he might do to Petra if she's left alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve has to call Tony. He’s staying here tonight, with Maria. They’ll take shifts. He’s not leaving Petra alone-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maria sprints around the corner, panting and out of breath. Steve‘s heart jumps into his throat at the sight of her wide, panicked eyes. Maria is utterly </span>
  <em>
    <span>terrified</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s gone,” Maria says, and Steve’s breath catches. “Petra- she’s gone. Fury must’ve taken her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>∞</span>
  
  <span>◑</span>
  
  <span>∞</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>They search floor after floor looking for Fury. Maybe Petra was just taken to eat, to shower or something, but no agents they find know of anything, and Fury had mysteriously disappeared.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>They find Davis at the front desk.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Where is she?” Maria demands, and Davis almost jumps back in his chair. Maria’s wings are fully extended behind her, probably done subconsciously in a bout of anger, but Steve can never be sure with her.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Who?”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Petra. The- the prisoner from HYDRA.”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Fury took her down to sublevel B.”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Maria’s face pales as she meets Steve’s eyes, only for a moment, before she’s hurrying back for the elevator. Steve spares Davis a quick </span>
  <em>
    <span>thank you </span>
  </em>
  <span>before he follows.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Maria, you’ve got to tell me what he’s doing to her,” Steve mutters as they wait for the elevator. Maria just shakes her head as the doors open and they step inside.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Nothing good.”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>The elevator takes them down to sublevel B, a floor Steve’s never been on before. He’s not sure he’d even like to be there now.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>The sterile while walls and furniture of the world above are starkly contrasted by the gray cement lining the entirety of this level. Guards, wearing more protective gear than any agent Steve had ever seen, watch them as they pass, Maria marching forward determinedly. She’s been down here before.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>The floor is similar to block C on the level above, the layout identical, but there are no viewing windows. The only noticeable difference between the heavy doors and the cement walls are thin creases bordering them, and a keycode to open them.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Steve takes a shuddering breath. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This </span>
  </em>
  <span>is where Petra is being kept?</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Maria comes to a stop in the middle of the long hallway, guards watching her from all sides as she looks around with worry.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“He’s got to be down here,” she whispers, almost to himself.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Steve starts toward the nearest guard. “Why don’t we just ask-”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Maria reaches out and grabs his arm as the guard flicks open a baton. Steve’s eyes widen and he stumbles back, behind Maria. She glares at the guard, her feathers ruffling, but wings held tightly to her back.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“They won’t tell you anything,” she murmurs. “We’re lucky they even allow us to stand on this floor. We’re not allowed to do much else. We just have to wait for-”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>As if on cue, Steve hears the sound of a door opening behind them, back the way they came. Steve whirls around and finds Fury exiting the cell nearest the elevator, tugging his jacket into place. Maria storms forward before Steve can stop her, walking right up to Fury and jamming her finger in his face.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Where is she?” Maria demands. Fury sighs.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“She’s a hostile, Hill. She has a lot of important information on HYDRA, as did all the others. We can’t go picking favourites.”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“You’re lucky that rule didn’t apply eight years ago.”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Fury’s jaw sets. “I was inexperienced back then. I shouldn’t have made that exception. You’d better check your tone, because recently, with everything that’s been unfolding, I’ve had half a mind to call her back here and ask her a couple more questions.”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Steve watches the interchange with bated breath, unable to understand what they’re discussing, but knowing it’s important. Knowing it’s going to be affecting him very soon.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“You told me you wouldn’t hurt her,” Maria whispers. “You gave me your word then, and again now.”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Fury’s cheek twitches. “We’re not hurting her, we’re… startling her. A change of scenery, a little intimidating setting….” As if to enunciate his point, a muffled yell is emitted from one of the cells. Steve fights to suppress a shiver. “She has answers regarding the largest terrorist organization in America, potentially the world. So I don’t care about your precious moral code; we’re getting those answers. And if you have a problem with that, there’s someone else I can go to for them instead.”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Maria watches him as he turns and leaves, wings beginning to rise as her feathers bristle along them. Fury steps into the elevator and stands, looking straight ahead, waiting as the doors close. The moment before they do, his gaze flicks down to Maria’s.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>And then, he’s gone.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Maria glares at the spot he used to occupy, her breaths coming out quick and angry, before pacing forward to the cell Fury had left. She stands at the door, glaring at the guard, as if daring them to attack her, to stop her, or to open the door. They do no such thing.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Quietly, Steve steps to her side. “She’s in there?” he asks quietly. Maria keeps her eyes fixed on the door as she nods. Steve almost doesn’t ask his next question; he’s not sure he wants the answer. “What is this hallway?”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“It’s where prisoners are brought for interrogation.”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“I thought that’s what block C was for?”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Maria looks up at him sadly, raising her hands to enact air quotes. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Interrogation.’</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Her hands clench into fists, and she drops them to her side.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“That’s… not right.”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“You don’t think I know that?” Maria snaps, before her gaze softens. “Sorry. It’s just… Fury’s very conservative, very black-and-white. Good people are good, and bad are bad. He doesn’t put any thought into… </span>
  <em>
    <span>accidents</span>
  </em>
  <span>, volunteers, underdeveloped minds, being forced into a lifestyle. If he wants answers, he’ll get them.”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Steve looks around warily. “So, the people in these cells…”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“There are no windows,” Maria notes quietly, stating the obvious and hoping Steve puts the pieces together. “Doors have a keypad, and not just a lock. There’s a guard to every cell, and about half a dozen extra, for good measure. And, yes, these walls are soundproofed, but… but sounds still get through.”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Steve swallows thickly as he nods, understanding everything he needs to know.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Well, he said he wasn’t hurting her, so that’s good, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Good that he’s keeping a confused, and probably injured, fourteen-year-old in a dark cell, </span>
  <em>
    <span>alone</span>
  </em>
  <span>, where she’s probably scared out of her mind?”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Well, it could be worse-”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>The look Maria gives him has Steve falling silent. “You’re right,” she agrees tersely. “It could be. Let me show you what </span>
  <em>
    <span>worse </span>
  </em>
  <span>looks like.”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>She turns and paces briskly to the elevator, leaving Steve to trail nervously behind.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next Sunday: The Exception</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. The Exception</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Maria rides home in Steve’s car, directing him to her house. It’s a silent drive. Maria’s practically fuming the whole way, arms crossed and sitting shock-still. Steve had offered her one of his jackets that was left in the backseat - her wings were twitching so much, Steve wanted to offer something to hold them still before they seized - but she turned it down with barely a shake of the head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maria’s demeanor softens the closer they get to their neighbourhood, to her home. Steve has only seen it twice before - it’s a quaint brownstone townhouse with large bay windows, but the curtains are always drawn. Flowerpots stand on the porch, but more often than not they’re dried up and shrivelled. Occasionally Steve will alter his running route and jog by Maria’s house, but the sight often upsets him. Steve doesn’t know Maria very well, and the shielded windows and dying flowers don’t give him the desire to change that - but when he parks the car on the road in front of her townhouse, as he watches her body still and her shoulders sag, her facial expression relaxing, Steve realizes that, maybe, she’s not that bad. Maybe she’s just wearing a mask.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aren’t they all?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve waits in the driver’s seat, the car off, for Maria to make the first move. It takes her a couple of moments, but she does eventually, stepping out of the car without a glance in Steve’s direction. He follows, taking in the mix of apprehension and comfort on her face - the apprehension always accompanied by glances in his direction, Steve notices.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve wonders if she’s going to back out on her end of the promise, but she continues steadily on, leading him right up to the doorway. Steve takes in all the spider webs in the corners - not into exterior decorating, then - as she unlocks the door. Steve doesn’t miss her hesitation before she pushes it open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m home,” she calls into the house as the door swings open, and Steve only has a moment to think, </span>
  <em>
    <span>but Maria isn’t living with a soulmate… is she?</span>
  </em>
  <span> before those thoughts are overtaken by the sheer beauty of the inside of the house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s colour everywhere, bright red couches and yellow bean bags sitting in front of a green coffee table, decorated with blue flowers on top. At first glance the walls are chaotic, filled with paintings and photos, but when Steve looks again he notices, they’re bare - just coated top to bottom with paint. There’s a different scene on every wall; one has a grassy meadow, and another holds the varying colours of the sky, blending into one another.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A person steps into the room, interrupting it all - a young woman with long, red hair and faded blue jeans with pencil doodles along them. A white cardigan keeps her wings pressed to her back, out of Steve’s vision. He gets the barest look at her, and she does the same to him, before Maria steps forward (and between them).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi, hon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” the young woman says cautiously, peering around Maria to stare at Steve. “Who’s this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is Steve.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman’s back straightens, and her hands fall lax at her side. An eased smile graces her features as she tilts her head to the side in a sign of nonchalance. She holds a hand out for Steve to shake. “Hello! I’m Natalia, Maria’s niece. I’m spending the week with her while my parents are out of town.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maria watches them shake hands with a sad smile. When Natalia steps back, Maria tells her quietly, “Steve knows.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Natalia’s demeanor changes instantly, shoulders stiffening and her left foot inching forward - the beginnings of a defensive crouch. “How much?” she asks quietly, her eyes - not defensive, not yet - never leaving Steve’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Enough to know that everything you just said is a lie.” Maria steps to Natalia’s side, putting her arm around Natalia’s shoulders. “Steve, meet Natasha. She’s Fury’s exception.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Natasha shoves Maria’s arm away as Steve watches with wide eyes. “I mean, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>am</span>
  </em>
  <span> my own person, but if you want to keep introducing me in terms of Fury….” She turns to Steve. “How much do you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Barely anything,” Maria answers for Steve. “There’s… another case like yours. At SHIELD.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Natasha’s eyes narrow, a storm beginning to brew - but she catches Steve watching her, and so she blinks and it’s gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well then, I guess we’d better fill him in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Natasha moves to sit on a bean bag as Maria settles on the couch. They both turn to stare at him, and Steve’s left to follow with shaky legs, settling beside Maria on the couch. One thing’s for sure: they’re going to have to proceed a lot slower if they want Steve to understand. Part of him is still taking in the multicoloured walls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maria catches him looking. “Natasha did all that. She’s in charge of a lot of the interior design, actually.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve nods slowly, the colour somehow simultaneously assaulting his eyes and blending together in a beautiful masterpiece. “So where’d you get the inspiration to-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a distraction,” Natasha says, fixing Steve with a cool gaze, and he’s left to wonder how someone who appears so closed-off can create something so vibrant. Steve waits for her to expand, but she doesn’t, and so he returns his gaze to Maria.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eight years ago,” Maria begins, her eyes on Natasha, “Sam and I went on a mission. It was one of my first. I was bright-eyed, hadn’t yet become aware of what humans were capable of. And so, when we entered this HYDRA base, fought off all these soldiers, and found a child in the centre of it all… no matter how hard she fought, I refused to take the killing shot, and I ordered Sam not to, either. You were… just nine years old at the time, I believe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Natasha nods sharply, her face devoid of emotion. “My earliest memories were being trained, conditioned. Electrically shocked when I misbehaved, failed, spoke or acted out of turn. They trained me to kill.” Her eyes are far off, and Steve notices her finger tracing one of the sketches on her jeans. It’s a rose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was a difficult fight, even with two-to-one odds. If we had gone even a month later, she might’ve been too strong for us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, well, you managed to knock me down just fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maria smiles, but it’s tight-lipped, more painful than it is happy. “We brought her back to Fury. He wanted to interrogate her, and I was too young to fight.” Maria cuts herself off, taking a deep breath. “I returned the next day, and this… this nine-year-old child, was curled up in the fetal position in the corner of her cell, quivering.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did Fury do?” Steve asks, leaning forward. He’s not sure who he directed the question to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maria turns to Natasha, but Natasha doesn’t look up, fingernail tracing over her pant leg more aggressively. Maria licks her lips and turns back to Steve. “I don’t know,” she answers quietly. “But I never left Natasha alone again from then on. Fury wanted answers, I made sure </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>was the one to go in and get them. We had a couple of discussions, formed a kind of bond. Months later, when Fury had all he needed, he was about to throw her into the cells, let her stay there.” Maria shrugs with a small smile. “I interjected. Volunteered to take care of her </span>
  <em>
    <span>myself</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and here we are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maria turns to smile at Natasha, but Natasha’s not paying attention. Her eyes grow wider by the second, seeing something beyond their own realm. Maria nudges her foot forward, against Natasha’s own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” she whispers. Natasha looks up, and Maria nods her head behind her. Natasha nods slowly and stands, moving toward a set of drawers positioned behind the couch. Steve doesn’t see what she withdraws; Maria is speaking to him once more, her voice quieted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Petra’s really good, I know she is. She just… needs some guidance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve nods slowly, mind reeling from all the information he’s learned. “And you trust Fury not to hurt her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maria’s expression darkens. “I have no power over Nick Fury. I don’t know what he is or isn’t going to do. But if he hurts that girl, I hope he knows, I will </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> forgive him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve shivers at her tone. He doesn’t think losing a contact would be the worst thing in the world for Fury, but losing </span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>contact just might be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve hears the sound of slamming drawers and turns, seeing Natasha step away from the dresser and heading to the far wall, the one with the painting of the sky. She holds a can of paint in her left hand before setting it on the ground and lifting the small paintbrush in her right. As Steve watches, she pries the lid from the can of paint and dips the brush in, beginning to add strokes to the darkest shade of the sky, adding stars to the black.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a distraction,” Steve whispers. Maria nods as she watches Natasha add star after star.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It helps keep her centred and gives her something to do, like an anecdote to her memories. I don’t really let her leave the house.” Steve looks at her in dismay, and she shrugs sheepishly. “I’m worried, if SHIELD is still looking for her, or- or HYDRA… it’s just safer this way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But is it better? For </span>
  <em>
    <span>her?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maria sighs, mulling over her thoughts. “Her protection is my first and foremost priority.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There must be a way to let her go out safely. You already had a name and backstory prepared when I came in, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know,” Maria whispers. “I do. It’s just… I can’t let anything happen to her, Steve. Not again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve nods once, leaning back in his seat. “Yeah,” he sighs. “Just make sure you have her best interests at heart.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maria shoots him a glare, and Steve’s worried he might wither under her gaze, but he holds it anyway. After a moment she turns away. “Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maria’s phone rings and she checks the caller ID before moving to stand from the couch. “Sam,” she informs Steve, before shooting a look to Natasha. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Watch her</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “I’ll be right back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She lifts the phone to her ear and leaves the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve focuses in on Natasha, on the intricate detail she’s adding to the various shades of the sky. Her brow is furrowed in concentration as she adds stroke after stroke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve clears his throat. “So, how old are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seventeen,” Natasha answers, before turning around with a raised brow. “And how old are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve smiles. “42.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh. Old.” She turns around to continue with her work. Steve’s brow shoots up into his hairline.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m- I’m not </span>
  <em>
    <span>old</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maria’s 29. Sam is... 32, I think. That makes you old.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve sighs. “That’s not- Wait, you know Sam?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Someone busts into the cell you’ve been kept in since you were born, you’d know them, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fair point.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And he visits on weekends.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve chuckles softly. It’s silent once more, and Natasha clears her throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have questions.” Steve shifts uncomfortably. “I know you do. HYDRA trained me to be an assassin, as well as a spy. I retained some of the skills.” She says the words like she’s stating facts, like they have no emotional connection to her at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The painted walls of the house indicate something else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You haven’t told anyone what SHIELD did to you?” Natasha wordlessly shakes her head. Steve frowns at that, but doesn’t want to push her. “And what about at HYDRA?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Natasha’s brush stills, and she turns her head - enough for Steve to see her profile, but not her face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They kept me in a cell, except for training. Nine hours every day with breaks every three in a windowless, cement room. They fought me, and they made me fight others.” She stops and takes a deep breath, the only indication that the words are having any emotional effect on her. “I won, every time.” She lifts her brush back to the wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what… did they tell you? About the world outside, about their organization….”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment Natasha says nothing, thinking over her words. She inches down the wall, stars becoming clouds. “They told me I would change the world. They said earth needed some new management, new direction, and I would be the one to bring it about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And did you believe them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I had no choice. It was how I was raised, what I was taught. It was the only thing I knew.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what about your family?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve watches Natasha’s knuckles grow white around the brush. He wants to retract the question, but it’s already been asked, and he </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>curious to know the answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I never met them,” she says softly, “but I get… memories. Flashes of… </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>. A voice, a-a hug, sometimes a face.” She shrugs, returning to her painting. “I always thought they were good, but I thought that while being trained by HYDRA. I didn’t really have a proper sense of good or bad, and now I’m worried - well, I’m wondering.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wondering about what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Natasha squeezes the paintbrush in her hand. She turns to Steve, expression darkening by the second. She sucks in a breath, and Maria runs into the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve bolts from his chair, taking in Maria’s frazzled expression. “We’ve gotta go,” she tells him, already heading for the door. Steve looks back to Natasha, and is met by only confusion before chasing after Maria.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? Where?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sam’s place. Fury called him.” Maria steps outside and Steve stands behind her on the doorstep as she pulls the door closed behind her. “It’s about Petra.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve hurries into the driver seat and turns the key in the ignition before Maria’s even settled in, beginning to pull the car out of the driveway. “What? Is she okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They did a health examination on her. They had to sedate her to do it,” she adds with gritted teeth. Her relationship with Fury is on thin ice, Steve can tell; his is, too. “She’s enhanced, which we knew. Her cells regenerate faster than that of the average person’s. She has enhanced metabolism, speed, strength, and about a dozen other things.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She- what? How?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They don’t know. They wanted to ask her, but, you know, they knocked her out cold.” Steve gives a disdainful sniff. “But that’s not all they found out. Steve… she doesn’t have wings.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steve almost slams on the breaks. “What do you mean, she doesn’t have them? I have a feather to prove she does!” </span>
  <em>
    <span>I have Tony’s feather, and that proves something else.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “It’s tucked into my back pocket right now-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They tried to cut them off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They- what, HYDRA?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maria nods wordlessly, slamming her hand on the dashboard with a grunt. “I should’ve seen this coming. They did it to Natasha. HYDRA, they cut off their soldiers’ wings so worries about soulmates don’t get in the way. You’re not concerned with finding your other half, because you don’t even know what to look for, and if you find them out in the field-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can kill them without knowing,” Steve finishes in a whisper. Maria sets her jaw and turns away, looking out the window.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So why are we going to Sam’s house?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because he has her.” Steve looks up to Maria, brow furrowed. “Sam saved her,” she explains quietly, eyes straight ahead. “He took her home.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next Sunday: The Spider</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. The Spider</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Sam ushers Steve and Maria inside the moment they pull up to his house, looking for unknown presences outside before closing the door and locking it behind them. He wordlessly leads them into the living room, where Steve stops dead in his tracks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Petra is there, draped across the couch in her gray SHIELD prisoner clothes. Her body is limp, eyes squeezed shut and lips slightly parted. She’s asleep.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Burning off the last of Fury’s sedative,” Sam informs them. “We might have to restrain her when she wakes up.” Maria whips her head around to glare at him, and Sam raises his hands in defence. “She’ll wake up in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by the people who just recently tried to kill her. What would </span>
  <em>
    <span>your </span>
  </em>
  <span>reaction be?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maria sneers at him, but says nothing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How’d she get here?” Steve asks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fury called me with the results of the medical exam-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why </span>
  <em>
    <span>you?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Maria demands. Sam raises a brow in her direction, and she rolls her eyes, shrugging, like, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Okay, I get it</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anyway, I wasn’t going to keep driving back and forth, but I </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely </span>
  </em>
  <span>wasn’t going to leave her at SHIELD, alone. I took temporary guardianship.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And Fury let you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He was tired of fighting you, I guess. He wants us to check in every now and then, bring her back for interrogations. Of course, this wasn’t said in a civil chat - he sort of screamed it all at me, but I wasn’t backing down.” He gives Maria a small smile. “I wasn’t leaving her there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maria grabs Sam’s hand in hers, giving it a quick squeeze before releasing it. “Thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, well. Let’s just hope Fury doesn’t change his mind anytime soon.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve clears his throat. “But what about James?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam shakes his head, lost. “I dunno. I could say she’s my niece, or come up with some kind of story, but it’s her actions that might jeopardize it. My niece wouldn’t try to kill him in his sleep, right?” he offers with a small chuckle. “I sent him out for the day. Gave him a shopping list, some items of which are only found in his favourite clothing store, which should keep him busy for a couple of hours-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can take her.” Steve looks back to Sam, not entirely sure what he just said or </span>
  <em>
    <span>why </span>
  </em>
  <span>he had spoken, but he knows it… it feels right. This is Tony’s soulmate, sitting in front of him, and no matter how much it would break his heart to see Tony connect with someone else, well, that’s just his insecurity. He needs Tony to be happy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had seen how Tony’s multi-coloured wings had bothered him. Tony wasn’t vocal about it, of course - actually, he was pretty good at hiding his concerns, but Steve saw him when they got ready for bed, watched Tony stare at himself in the mirror for a moment longer than necessary, eyes off-centre. Whenever he turned around too quickly and caught sight of the yellow in the corner of his vision, he’d freeze, remaining motionless, if only for a moment. When tucking his wings behind a jacket, the yellow one always went first - out of sight, out of mind. And Steve would be lying if he said he didn’t catch sight of Tony’s phone when they sat together on the couch, watched what Tony was typing on his screen. More than once, it was a Google search - </span>
  <em>
    <span>yellow wings</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Steve knows Tony is smarter than to believe he’d get his answers from a Google search. Still, he understood that, developing a new soulmate part way through your life and going fourteen years without another word, that must be </span>
  <em>
    <span>killing </span>
  </em>
  <span>him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll do it,” Steve reinforces, nodding. “I’m not letting her go back to Fury.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam peers closely at his face. “You know about Natasha.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve nods, voice quiet. “I got to meet her.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But are you sure you’re ready to take care of a child? She’s fourteen, and trained to kill. She’s never been anywhere but in a cell. Look, I’m the one that made the decision to bring her home. Steve, I can’t burden you with this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She’s Tony’s soulmate.” Sam freezes, lips parted. Steve nods slowly and pulls the yellow feather from his back pocket. It’s ruffled slightly, but Sam’s eyes fly to it, like a moth to a flame. He’s fascinated. “I visited her cell the other day. There was an… an altercation. This feather must’ve been dislodged from her wings-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam shakes his head. “Not possible. Fury said her wings were cut off.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maria steps forward. “Natasha… she has none. An awful scar, maybe, but no hints of there ever being feathers. If they were trained in the same way-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. I know what I saw,” Steve says determinedly. “This fell from her back. It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>hers</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I’m sure of it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, there’s only one way to find out,” Sam says, looking to the sleeping figure on the couch. Maria catches on, shaking her head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. No way.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you want answers-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not while she’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>asleep</span>
  </em>
  <span>, are you insane?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why don’t we just </span>
  <em>
    <span>ask </span>
  </em>
  <span>her?” Steve interrupts, and both heads turn to glare at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, don’t know if you’re aware of this, but she’s asleep.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know that, idiot. But how long ago did Fury administer the drugs?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I dunno, an hour, maybe?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And they were only meant to last for the medical examination, not for the journey after. She should be waking up any moment, and we can ask her then.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay. Okay, fair,” Sam agrees, “but won’t she freak out when she sees she’s in a new location?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The drugs should keep her docile long enough for us to explain things,” Maria says uncomfortably.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve steps to her side and quiets his voice. Though he knows Sam is still within earshot, he figures the discretion will be appreciated. “You’re uncomfortable with this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can’t say I’ll enjoy taking advantage of her weakened state when she can’t even fight back.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So we keep our distance,” Steve assures her. “No one will go near Petra, not until she tells us she’s comfortable with it. She’s the one calling the shots here. I promise.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve turns, looking to Sam. He nods instantly, holding a hand to his heart. “Swear.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maria nods, exhaling a slow breath. “Okay,” she agrees. “Now, we wait.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They don’t have to wait long.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Petra blinks her eyes open just a couple of minutes later, looking blearily up at the ceiling. Steve waits with bated breath as her eyes narrow, and realization crashes over her all at once. Her eyes shoot wide and she bolts upright to a sitting position, beginning to sway. Steve reaches forward on instinct to steady her, but Sam’s hand on his chest holds him back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Petra glares at the group, as best as she can - her pupils are dilated and she looks to be having trouble focusing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What did you give me?” she snarls.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maria tries for a comforting smile. “You’ve been sedated. I’m sorry. This wasn’t us, it was SHIELD, so they could do a medical examination-” Petra visibly flinches, and Maria lifts her hands, palms out. “Just to see if you were healthy, I promise.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Can she promise that?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Steve wonders nervously. He’s beginning to doubt the legitimacy of SHIELD and their procedures.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Petra gives Maria a wary look, but seems to stand down, if slightly. “Where am I?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My house,” Sam answers. “We wanted to take you out of SHIELD’s custody. You’ll be safer and better taken care of here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How can I believe that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam gives a small smile. “You’re just going to have to trust us.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Petra begins to scan the room, probably looking for an escape route. “And what if I try to leave?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maria sucks in a breath. “I’m afraid we can’t allow that. You are under our protection now, and I promise you, it’s safe, but you’re technically still on SHIELD’s watchlist, and they need you to be monitored at all times.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How will you ensure that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re actually hoping we won’t need to.” Petra narrows her eyes. She’s disbelieving, and Steve guesses she’ll try to run at her first opportunity. “Are you thirsty? When was the last time you ate?” Petra’s brow furrows, and for the first time, she looks… </span>
  <em>
    <span>confused</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It’s been too long, then.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam moves instantly to the kitchen, returning not a moment later with a glass of water and a sleeve of saltine crackers. Petra eyes them warily.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I come set these beside the couch?” Sam asks. “It’s up to you if you want them or not.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Petra moves to sit on the opposite end of the couch before nodding, and Sam moves slowly, placing the food and drink in front of the cushion where she used to be situated. Sam returns to Maria and Steve with his back to Petra, and it doesn’t go unnoticed - her brow furrows in confusion. Slowly, she inches toward the offering.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ll be staying with me, at my home,” Steve tells her as she nervously eyes the water. “It’ll be your home, too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why?” she asks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, we want to keep you safe, and protected. SHIELD won’t do that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“HYDRA would.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“HYDRA’s gone,” Steve assures her with a stern tone. Her eyes shoot up to his, and he forces his expression to soften. “Even if there are any agents that did survive, they don’t know where you are, and you don’t know where they are. Would they come for you, if they did?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They worked hard to create me,” she shoots back, a hate burning behind her eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Meaning what?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They trained me since I was young. They put in time and effort and commitment, wasted too many resources to let me go so easily.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think any attempt to get to you would be too much of a risk for them to take.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Steve,” Maria warns quietly, but he pays her no mind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m their Spider,” Petra spits back. “They’ve trained me well. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>will find </span>
  <em>
    <span>them</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ll have to get past us, first.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Steve,” Sam tries to say, but Steve ignores him as Petra’s eyes darken, a storm brewing behind brown glass. She slides her legs off the couch to rest her feet on the ground, tensing her shoulders in anticipation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Move aside,” she says quietly. Steve doesn’t budge - he stands, waiting, and Petra does exactly what he expects.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She launches herself off the couch, mouth contorted in a snarl and arms outstretched.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before she can reach them, her eyes blow wide. A hand flies to her neck, and she collapses to the ground.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maria sucks in a breath, and Sam’s hand flies to his mouth. “Medical examination, my ass,” Steve growls, stooping low and offering Petra his hand. She shoves herself back against the couch, away from him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fury did this?” Sam whispers, horrified, as Steve remains on the ground, keeping eye contact with the startled 14-year-old.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He had the chance to sedate her. You think he would’ve allowed her strength to restore to full capacity once it wore off? I figured he must’ve done </span>
  <em>
    <span>something </span>
  </em>
  <span>to keep her enhancements controlled. I just didn’t know what.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So you taunted her, hoping that she wouldn’t attack us and rip us apart, limb from limb.” The corners of Petra’s lips turn up slightly at Sam’s fear of her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you </span>
  <em>
    <span>know </span>
  </em>
  <span>Fury?” Maria whispers back, sounding more horrified than anything. “It was an educated guess.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m really sorry,” Steve tells Petra, watching as she cowers against the couch. “Do you know what he did? How it works?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Petra’s hand flies up to the side of her neck, and she feels the skin there for a moment. “No,” she whispers, shaking her head. “I don’t.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Probably some kind of heart rate sensor,” Sam supplies. Petra’s breath picks up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, I can’t get too excited,” she concludes. “I can’t fight, or run.” Steve gives her a sympathetic look, and she scoffs. “You’re telling me I have a choice, that I’m free, but now you’re going to take me to one of your houses and just keep me there like a </span>
  <em>
    <span>dog</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I have no choice in this, and I barely even know who you people are.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We just want to help,” Maria tries to assure her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. You keep saying that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” Steve whispers, and the pained look Petra gives him makes his heart break.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wish that were true.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Slowly, Steve rises to his feet. To his left, Sam looks concerned; to his right, Maria seems simply pained. Petra drops her eyes to the floor, conceding defeat as she reaches for the glass of water and takes a slow sip. Steve wishes he could trick himself into thinking it’s because she’s growing comfortable; really, he knows it’s because she’s lost hope. She’s here now; what’s the worst that can happen, if not what she’s gone through already?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam clears his throat as she places the glass back on the floor beside her. “Petra… what happened to your wings?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She glances up at him, expression void. “Cut off. One less distraction to worry about.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve’s brow furrows. “But I saw a fallen feather, that day with you in-in the cell.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They did it when I was young, just starting treatments. I was restless, violent. Wouldn’t sit still - </span>
  <em>
    <span>couldn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span>. They just… hacked off whatever they could.” Steve winces in sympathy. He sees Maria doing the same, and Sam’s fingers twitch at his side. A nervous habit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What kind of treatments?” Sam asks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How do you think I was able to take the three of you down, without wings? Climb up walls, move with such agility… and I’m sure your </span>
  <em>
    <span>friend </span>
  </em>
  <span>at SHIELD told you about the internal alterations.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not a friend,” Maria ensures, tone sharp as glass. Steve glances at her to find her expression set in anger.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How did they do it?” Sam asks. Petra averts her gaze, clenching her hands into fists in her lap. Her lips are pinched shut as she refuses to answer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam turns his attention to Steve, and Maria does the same. A dismissal; a goodbye.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve lowers himself once more to his knees. “Can I take you home, Petra?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Home?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“To my house,” Steve corrects. This is something that’ll take some getting used to, for both of them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do I have a choice?” She knows the answer as she asks it, and so when Steve averts his gaze, she doesn’t react. She stands from the floor, eyes shifting from Sam’s to Maria’s. They step aside, allowing her to feel safe as she passes. Sam gives her a simple nod; Maria offers her a smile. Neither are returned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve leads her wordlessly from the house. She settles into the passenger’s seat of his car, movements stiff and eyes hard, constantly searching - for what, Steve doesn’t know.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He puts the car in drive and leads them to their new life.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>end of part one</p>
<p>Next Sunday: Tony's POV<br/>The Jacket</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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